What's in a Name? Or a Face?
by Over.Thinking.Daily.Life
Summary: Harry never read the fine print of the Polyjuice potion. Now he is stuck in a girl's body, the twin of Theodore Nott, and actually enjoying it? Does he even want to become Harry Potter again? Very silly, fluffy story. Fem!Harry, no pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Outside, a storm raged though neither the wind nor cold penetrated the old stones of the castle. Silhouetted before a fire, a small figure bent over a thick mass of ropes, fingers flying as they wove strands over and under. The ropes shifted, transformed and seemed to move as though with life themselves.

As he worked, the boy only had one word which broke the silence.

"Please," he whispered, "Please."

. . . . . .

In retrospect, it should have been completely obvious.

First, however clever and crafty they thought themselves, there was a reason 'Most Potente Potions' was found in the restricted section. Second, as brilliant as Hermione's potion-making was, there was a reason the Polyjuice potion was considered exceedingly difficult by even the most experienced wizards. Third-

Well, third was-

Harry Potter stared once more at the unrecognizable figure in the mirror. Gone was the black, unruly hair, gone were the green eyes so reminiscent of his mother, gone were the glasses, the scar, the familiar, regular, well- not to put to fine a point on it- male face.

Instead, a girl looked back at Harry. A girl with straight brown hair, a thin face, and an astonished expression.

Harry raised his hand to pinch his cheek and the reflection mirrored the movement perfectly. She- whoever she was- was dressed in his Gryffindor robes, which still fit reasonably well. His shoes were a little big and his collar a little loose around the new neck. Harry rubbed his face and closed his eyes so tightly that he could see stars.

But when he opened them, she was staring back at him.

"Alright mate?" Ron peaked his head around the door of the abounded girl's bathroom. "Any change?"

"No." Harry sighed and the voice was different- higher pitched and softer. "Ron- I can't use my wand. Nothing's working. Even the spells we learned last year-" His voice raised hysterically, on the edge of tears, even though Harry had never cried in front of anyone before. Ron hurried in and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey- hey- it's ok. It's going to be ok."

Harry sniffed- another thing he had never done before- and leaned into Ron's shoulder. "How's 'mione."

"I got her sorted with Madame Pompfrey." Ron patted her shoulder. "I think we should take you now, yeah?"

"Just a few more hours-" Harry begged. He clutched the piece of wood that once had been his beloved wand but now refused to respond to any direction he gave it. "Please- I'm sure if we just wait-"

Five hours ago, they had met in the bathroom- hairs of their respective targets clutched in their hands. Hermione was going to transform into Millicent Bulstrode, Ron into Vincent Crabbe, and Harry- after much debate- had grabbed a few hairs of Theodore Nott. Nott, he had argued, would actually ask Draco questions about the Slytherin Heir. Crabbe and Goyle were too dumb to actually care. It made sense to choose Nott, who was also returning home for Christmas and sat in front of Harry in Charms.

Four and a half hours ago, they had each forced a disgustingly lumpy potion down their respective throats. Harry remembered his potion had tasted faintly of pine and kippers.

Four hours and 29 minutes ago, Hermione had retreated to a bathroom stall in tears, Ron stood as a convincing Crabbe, and Harry had his first glimpse of this new, very female, very not intended face.

Two hours and 29 minutes ago, Ron had faded back to into his normal form, taken Hermione, who was looking more feline than friend, to the hospital wing, and Harry settled down to await his eventual reversal.

As of three seconds ago, Harry was still waiting.

'Nah, mate." Ron shook his head in finality, "This is just weird. You hear about Polyjuice doing weird things in the comics, but I've never heard of this. You've got to see a Healer."

. . . . . . .

"Well, I am not sure what to tell you Mr.- Miss-"

Even the unflappable Madame Pomphrey seemed baffled by this newest development as she stared down at the child sitting morosely on the hospital bed. The girl that Weasley had brought in earlier had been easy to diagnose- a clear potions malfunction. Madame Pomphrey had fed her a light sedative to calm the girl and a magic suppressor, so the girl's own magic didn't attack the new form she found herself in.

But this boy- girl? child?- all of her diagnostic spells came back negative. According to the best of her knowledge, this child was in fine health, good magic, and free from all maladies both mundane and magical.

"Potter," The girl stated desperately, "I'm Harry Potter."

"Of course you are dear." Madame Pomphrey soothed. If the girl hadn't arrived with the Weasley in tow, she'd have sworn that the little Nott heir in Slytherin had been mucking about in gender reversal charms. "I'm afraid that this is a little out of my experience. I'm going to have to call Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore."

The little girl blanched at names.

. . . . . . . .

"Unusual, truly unusual." Professor Dumbledore stared down his long nose at the once Harry Potter and lifted the straight brown fringe once more to see if the scar had suddenly appeared. However, the forehead remained perfectly blank.

Professor Snape was looking down at the two children with a sour, calculating expression.

"The Polyjuice potion was almost perfect," He announced. As soon as he had been summoned to the infirmary and learned of the situation, he had swept off to the girl's bathroom to confiscate the remaining potion. "The worst that should have happened was that the hair dissolved-"

"Hairs," the girl interrupted sullenly, "We each grabbed two hairs."

The two older men froze and exchanged a long glance. Finally, Dumbledore folded his hands into his sleeves and gravely regarded the young faces.

"Mr. Potter- do you remember whose hairs you collected?"

The girl huffed, "Nott. Theo Nott's hairs. I grabbed them off the back of his robes at the end of Charms."

"Both hairs?"

"Yes."

Professor Snape interrupted, "Were the hairs identical?"

The small, pale face twisted in concentration. "Well, one was straight and brown and the other hand a slight curl to it- just like-"

"Just like a certain Miss Daphne Greengrass with whom you also share a Charms class," Professor Snape finished icily. "It never concerned you that they weren't identical hairs- never crossed your mind that you might have grabbed two-"

"No!" The girl cried out, "I thought they- well, my hair can be both straight and curl-" Her voice trailed off miserably as Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. The girl's hair was thin and straight- the sort that would never hold a curl without great coaxing.

"Indeed, well I must congratulate you, Mr. Potter. You have successfully managed some of the darkest magic of all: line theft."

"What!" The thin face with large brown eyes stared up at him in astonishment. "I- what- I didn't mean-"

"What Professor Snape means," Professor Dumbledore stepped in with a nasty look at the Potion's Master, "Is that there has been an unfortunate potion's accident. You see Harry, polyjuice potion is a dangerous and dark potion. If you dissolve more than one person's hair in the potion you can inadvertently become a mix of both persons - permanently."

"What!" Ron broke in, "This is permanent? Harry isn't Harry?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "It appeared that Mr. Potter has taken on Miss Greengrass's gender, but appears to be a Nott in all other matters. No doubt because it was your intention to take Theo's form."

"But I'm still me- right?" The girl asked, large tears welling in her eyes. When Professor Dumbledore shook his head, she burst into sobs much to the astonishment of her friend who patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"Luckily," Professor Dumbledore said brightly as he took a seat on the other side of the bed and laid a hand on the light brown hair, "There is an easy solution. I am sure that you have some of Harry's hairs in your dorm- in a comb or on a pillowcase. All we need to do is mix those with the potion and possibly some of Mr. Weasley's. With any luck, you'll be back in your own body in no time."

The girl lifted her head and blinked back tears, "You mean it, sir? I could go back to -"

"-being Harry Potter?" The headmaster smiled down at her, "Of course you can, my dear. All Mr. Weasley needs to do is collect some of your hairs and Professor Snape needs to bring up the potion-"

"I vanished it." Professor Snape said flatly, inspecting his fingernails. "Per normal procedure."

"You-" With great effort, Professor Dumbledore managed to restrain his anger, and settle back onto the bed. "How long will it take you to brew another potion."

Professor Snape sucked his teeth, clearly luxuriating in the older man's distress, "Three months at least."

"You have a month."

"Sir," the Potion Master's dark eyes flashed in anger, "The potion requires a month to brew at a minimum. I need to restock my supplies- which were ransacked for this unfortunate escapade. I also need to confer with Ms. Granger about exactly what she did to recreate the potion in its imperfections. This all takes time."

"Fine- just-" Dumbledore gave the girl a lingering look, "Hurry. The longer Harry stays like this, the more unpredictable the results become."

"Naturally," Professor Snape bowed his head but didn't leave. "There is one other thing. We must inform Lord Nott."

"Severus-" Dumbledore said sternly, "Don't be absurd. You know Lord Nott's leanings, how he feels about Harry Potter-"

"Who is no longer among us," Snape interjected with palpable glee, "I do wonder how he would feel about meeting a daughter of his own blood?"

When Dumbledore was silent, the Potion's master continued, "I wonder how the greater pureblood community would feel knowing that one of their own had been . . ." He waved a long-fingered hand as if to imply all the worst. Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

"Fine. Contact Lord Nott and explain the situation. But discretely, Severus. This is already getting out of hand."

"Of course, Sir." Professor Snape held out a hand for the girl who had been following the conversation with nervous, closed expression. "Come, Miss Nott."

Harry went.

. . . . .

A/N: a very dumb, but a silly little story that popped into my head. Very much inspired by the premise of 'Lucasta: Born of Magic' by excentrymuse on Ao3. Let me know what you think!

Updated: 9/19 with intro scene based on a comment by the Shadows Mistress.


	2. Chapter 2

II.

Harry- well, whoever he was- marveled as he walked hand in hand with the Slytherin Head of House down to the dungeons. Earlier today, the man could barely pass him without spitting out a detention and now he was guiding him through the dungeons almost like a father.

"Out of curiosity," Professor Snape remarked, glancing down at him searchingly, "If this had gone well, how were you going to explain Mr. Nott's reappearance at Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged, "I don't know. Say Nott forgot something. Draco doesn't ask a lot of questions, you know. He prefers talking."

Snape hummed thoughtfully as he pushed open the door to his office. Harry felt the chill of wards as he stepped over the threshold and saw a space that was surprisingly comfortable if incredibly cluttered with books, potion ingredients, and half-eaten plates of dinner.

"We'll use the fireplace here- fewer people to interfere," Snape explained. "Now, let me do the talking."

Harry nodded mutely and took a seat on a well worn, but overstuffed armchair as Professor Snape threw a handful of floo powder on the fire. The flames burned green.

"Nott Keep."

The flames shimmered. There was a long pause while Harry glanced around the busy office. He had thought that Snape's private abode would be full of eyeballs and awful potions- but there were mostly stacks of essays to correct and half-drunk mugs of tea.

"I don't let the House Elves clean in here," Professor Snape explained as they waited, "Too many potions they might - Ah. Theodore Nott. May I speak to your father? It is a matter of utmost urgency."

The disembodied head of Harry's year mate appeared in the fire and blinked nervously up at the professor. Harry startled. The face, which he had never really looked at before, was so, so similar to the one he had studied in the mirror for hours. They could really have been twins.

"Uh- he's unavailable at the moment. I can take a message?"

Professor Snape's lips thinned, "I must insist. This matter is most important."

"Then tell me." Nott's chin seemed to raise stubbornly."Father named me as temporary Head in all matters while he is away."

"Very well," Professor Snape motioned to Harry, who hopped off the chair and crept up to the fire. Nott's eyes widened in surprise and then, in a puff of flame and ash, the boy was kneeling on the rug before them. He stood up quickly, not bothering to dust himself off as he peered into Harry's face.

"Are you- are we- what is- Professor- what is going on? Who is this?" Nott had unconsciously taken Harry's hand so when he turned Harry was forced to as well.

"This is your sister," Professor Snape said with a faint hint of a smile. Nott's closed face tightened in suspicion, even as he squeezed Harry's hand.

"What do you mean? How did this come to be?"

"Magic," Snape answered dryly. "If you don't believe me, I'll turn my back so you can check." Without waiting for an answer, the potion master turned to examine one of his walls of books. As soon as his back was turned, Nott swung about and shoved Harry's right shirt sleeve up above his elbow.

"What-"

"Shush-" Nott carefully turned Harry's arm over and let out a slow and shaky breath. "You are a Nott. He's not lying."

Harry craned his neck, trying to see the back of his own elbow. Just behind the boniest point of joint, a small, dark scar appeared. It looked almost like a Celtic knot.

"That wasn't there-" he began to protest.

"It's the Nott sign." Nott whispered, "All true born Nott's bear the mark. You are my sister."

Nott carefully pulled the sleeve over Harry's arm, as though Harry was made of glass and would break at the hint of too much pressure. When the cuff was carefully buttoned, Nott stepped back and stared at Harry critically.

"Why are you in a boy's uniform," He demanded suddenly, "Why Gryffindor colors? No Nott has been sorted into Gryffindor since - well- forever!"

"These were the clothes we found her in," Snape interjected smoothly, "And before you question her too closely, magic has erased all her memories prior to this morning." Harry wasn't sure, but he thought that Snape had sent him a subtle wink over the top of Nott's head. Why was Snape being almost civil? Was he like this to everyone who wasn't named Potter and sorted into Gryffindor?

"Wha-" Harry stumbled as Nott threw himself at him. The Slytherin was shaking slightly, his thin shoulder trembling under Harry's unconsciously holding arm.

"You're my sister. A real sister. A real Nott." He back away slightly, holding Harry tightly by the upper arms, as if frightened Harry might run away. His gaze was intense and absolute, "I will do anything to ensure your happiness, Sister. All my power, all my magic, it's at your disposal."

Harry felt that the pronouncement was significant in a way he couldn't articulate.

"Uh, thanks."

. . . . . . . .

"Do you remember your name?" Nott asked after Professor Snape had served them both mugs of tea. The Professor had strengthened his own with a dash of something he refused to share with the younger students.

Harry glanced over at Snape who gave a minute shake of his head. Harry repeated the motion. "No, sorry."

Nott looked sympathetically at him, "That's alright. It must be awful to not have any of your memories. Do you think it was a botched obliviation spell? Or do you remember drinking something- like a forget me all potion?"

Nott, Harry was realizing with growing alarm, was almost too smart for his own good. He ducked his head and took a too quick drink of the too-hot tea. After he finished coughing, he shook his head.

"Sorry, I really don't remember."

"That's alright," Nott repeated. "We can give you a new name until your memories return. Are there any names you like?"

Harry thought about it. "Harriet?" He finally suggested. That sounded similar enough to his own name that it wouldn't cause too much confusion, but Theo shook his head.

"Nott's usually have Greek-based names." He kicked his heel against the back of his chair and then brightened, "I know! What about Dorothea!"

"What?"

"Dorothea- a gift from god. It's the inverse of my name- Theodore- god's gift. Since we are twins, it's perfect!"

Dorothea sounded like a horribly fussy name to Harry- something that someone like Draco would have, but he'd only have to put up with it for a few months. So he smiled and nodded. "I like that."

Nott grinned at him, eyes bright and joyous. He looked nothing like the quiet, reserved Slytherin who shared some of Harry's classes. In fact, Harry couldn't remember ever seeing Nott so animated before.

"Brillant. Then that's sorted. Ready to go home?" He jumped out of the chair, set the mug down carefully on a coaster untouched, and then held out a hand to Harry. Harry shrank back in the chair.

"Home?"

"Nott Keep." Theo said happily, "I can't wait to show you everything! You'll love it. We can play hide and go seek! Get lost in the storage rooms. See who can stay in the mausoleums the longest-"

"But I can't leave Hogwarts!" Harry protested, clutching his mug tighter. He couldn't leave Ron- or Hermione all alone in the infirmary still half transformed with a cat. What if Ron didn't find one of his hairs? What if Dumbledore thought of another, quicker way to reverse him? He couldn't leave!

Theo's face fell.

"I know it can seem frightening going somewhere you don't know," He said gently. "But you're a Nott and Nott Keep is our home. It will feel safer once you are in our families magic. Plus I need your help."

Harry glanced desperately at Snape, but the Professor sat completely blank-faced- offering no guidance on how he should respond.

"What do you need my help with?" Harry asked hesitantly. Maybe he could go, help Nott, and then return to Hogwarts.

"It's nearly Yule," Nott explained carefully, "There are certain rituals we need to perform to strengthen the Keep's wards, keep the family magic safe and growing. It takes two people- at a bare minimum and there haven't been two people for a while. You have to come help. Please?"

Harry sighed and wished that whatever personality quirks had carried over to this new body, the inability to refuse a cry for help wasn't one of them.

"Alright," he agreed. "But Theo - I need to come back here afterward."

. . . . . . .

A/N: Could this all have been saved up and posted as one long chapter at the end of the week? Yes. Is it more fun this way? Yes.

Let me know what you think! The follows, favs, and especially reviews are my fuel and delight.


	3. Chapter 3

III.

Harry's new body did not make him more graceful when it came to floo travel. But to his somewhat relief, when he spilled out of the fire onto the stone floor of Nott Keep, Theo was right there beside him. Apparently, the Nott's weren't the most elegant travelers accepted Theo's hand as he rose to his feet and glanced about the room of his, possibly, new house.

Nott Keep managed to be both cavernous and claustrephobic. Theo's voice echoed slightly as he dragged Harry away from a fireplace easily large enough for three adults to stand in, towards a winding stone hallway. Indeed, they were dwafted by the soaring ceilings and arched doors, but the weight of the stone pressed down on Harry's sensabilities despite that.

The Keep was circular, but clearly charmed to seem larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside, or so Harry had to assume since a building of the size Theo ran them through would have had to be noticeable to any muggle outside. It sprawled, streched, and echoed like a cave as Theo ran him up stair cases and then down endless spiraling stairs.

There were no windows. Harry passed a few slits in the walls that served to accent how thick the stone walls were rather than let in any light or air.

"Spell slots," Theo explained when he caught Harry peering through one. "Incase anyone attacks. Fwush. Woosh." The boy mimed pointing a wand out the window and taking aim, much like a muggle with a toy gun. He grinned at Harry who couldn't help but grin back hesitantly.

"Who's going to attack us?" Harry asked. Theo shrugged happily.

"Anyone. Everyone. Giants. Dragons. Muggles. They've all tried and they've all failed. Hey- Race you to the next doorway!" He took off down the hall with an ungainly sprint. Harry spared one more glance out the spell slot. The glimpse of the land outside the Keep was as cold and damp as any in England. And completely deserted.

. . . . . .

One thing the Keep did have in abundance was magical tapestries. There wasn't a portrait to be found anywhere in the house and Harry found that he missed the murmering, chattering background of the portraits at Hogwarts. The tapestries moved as fluidly as people, animals, and horses might, but they were completely silent.

"We have the best collection in all of England," Theo told him proudly when he caught Harry stopping to stare at a particularly intricate tapestry of a battle. The swords glinted and the blood splashed so realistically, Harry half thought he was watching a movie.

"I've never seen one like this before," Harry admitted as Theo came up to the tapestry as well.

"And you won't anywhere else," He said, tracing a finger over the delicate weaving. The warriors fought on without noticing. "These were all made with family Magic. Nott magic. I think our great, great, great, great, great aunt made these. Arachne Nott. Her work was so famous that wizarding princes would come from all over the world to buy them."

"Wow-" Harry breathed, "What happened to her?"

Theo shrugged, "Apparently she angered another pureblood- maybe the McGonagal family? They transformed her into a spider. Or her animagus was a spider. I don't remember. Either way, she stopped making the tapestries."

He dropped his hand and took a step back to consider it critically. "Do you want to see my favorites? They are on the fifth floor!"

. . . . . . . . . .

"Where is everyone?" Harry finally asked when Theo had completed the dizzying, whirlwind tour of the castle and brought them back to the original sitting room. Or what Harry thought was the original room. Honestly, he wasn't sure.

Besides the immensity of the keep, the main thing that struck Harry was how empty the house was. In the entire tour, he and Theo hadn't passed another living creature- no parents, no servants, no other- well, anyone. The Keep looked like it was built to hold an entire village, but the rooms were bare, the walls empty, the hallways silent.

"What do you mean?" Theo cast Harry a suspicious look as he built up the fire. Harry perched on the edge of an old couch and tried to recall Dumbldore and Snape's conversation.

"Like Lord Nott or-"

"Oh- he's away," Theo said blithely, turning back to coaxing the flames into life. "Don't worry about it."

"He's our father-" Harry stumbled over the words, wondering just how far he should take this charade. "Shouldn't you let him know? About me? I don't want him to come in and be -" Harry shivered slightly. If Uncle Vernon had come home to find that Harry had suddenly developed a sister, well, Harry didn't want to think about the rage that would have produced. Being locked in his room was probably the least of his concerns.

"Oh- don't worry about that." Theo repeated, "He won't care. I promise you that. There." He sat back on his heels happily and held his hands out towards the flames in pleasure. Harry, also feeling chilled, crept closer to sit on the carpet next to him.

"Is he gone a lot for work?"

"Who?"

"Lord Nott."

Theo looked relieved. "Oh yeah. All the time. He is always traveling for work. Gone for months at a time."

"And leaves you by yourself!" Harry looked horrified. Granted, he loved the few times that the Dursley's had left him on his own in the house. But they had been gone for a few hours tops- an evening at the most. Not for months.

"I'm not by myself." Theo protested, "I have…." His final word faded into an undetectable mumble.

Harry leaned forward. "What was that?"

Theo repeated the mumble, then sighed. "She's our house elf, see? But she's very old and I'm worried she's a little sick. If you say her name, she'll come because she thinks you're summoning her and I don't want to stress her. I set her up a nice little bed in the kitchen, do you want to see?"

Harry nodded mutely and Theo leaped to his feet. He grinned- two bright spots of color on his normally pale cheeks.

. . . . . . .

The kitchen was located in the depths of the Keep- acting as both hub and heart of the old castle. Or it would have in an earlier day. Harry gazed around in wide eyed wonder at the huge, wood burning stoves, a cauldron over an empty hearth that was large enough to bathe in, scarred wooden table that seemed better to plan a battle than cook a meal.

Theo ignored all of it- hurrying through the enormous kitchen to a small alcove tucked beside the stoves. There, in a bed that had clearly been created of old towels and at least one boy's shirt, a very old, very wrinkly house elf lay.

Harry had only ever seen one house elf in his life (the one that had ruined Aunt Petunia's dinner party) and was no healer, but even he could tell that the creature was ill. Its skin was dry and papery. The large ears drooped with no visible life. And the eyes, when they slowly opened at Theo's approach were rheumy and dull.

"Master Theodore-" The creature rasped and tried to sit up. But Theo crouched down and gently pressed her back onto the makeshift bed.

"Stay Euphie-" Theo begged. "You need to rest. That's an order. Plus I have a surprise for you."

He looked over his shoulder and motioned to Harry. Harry approached slowly and knelt down beside the boy. Up close, he could feel the faint heat from a fever radiating from the elf.

"Hello," He said softly and the creature's eyes flew open in surprise.

"You is-" she started.

"Dorothea!" Theo interrupted happily. "My new sister. Magic gave her to us today, Euphie! Right before Yule too. Together, we'll be able to complete the Yule rituals and get you better!"

The House Elf smiled softly up at the boy and took his hand in her long, dry fingers. "You is a good boy, Master Theo."

"You is a good elf, Euphie," Theo said gravely and squeezed her fingers gently. "Do you need anything to drink? I can get you some water?"

The exertion of the all the conversation seemed to have tired out the elf who only shook her head and closed her eyes weakly. "I is getting you the water-"

"No, no-" Harry interrupted, "You rest. We can get it."

. . . . . . .

"I know I don't treat Euphie like a proper pureblood. But, she raised me, you see. After Mama died. " Theo explained to Harry as together they pulled a wooden top off a large cistern in the kitchen. The cold, sweet smell of well water hit Harry's face as Theo filled a mug with water.

"I think you treat her wonderfully," Harry said.

"Thanks. She's a good elf. She's been with the Nott family for ages and ages- so has her parents and their parents and so on. And for as long as I can remember she's been managing the Keep all by herself."

Harry let out a low whistle. This was a big house for only one elf to manage. Hogwarts, he heard, had dozens and dozens of elves. Granted, Hogwarts was a lot bigger and had many more students.

"But she got sick two years ago," Theo carefully carried the mug over to the sleeping House elf and placed the cup near her bed.

"What happened?" Harry asked when Theo returned.

"I don't know," Theo admitted, "I think Euphie is connected to the Keep. If its magic fails, then so does she. Which is why it is so brilliant that you are here! With two people we can do a proper Yule Ritual. Which will restore the magic of the house and Euphie to good health."

He seemed so determined and sure of himself that Harry didn't have the heart to ask if House Elves just sometimes grew ill or old. Instead, he just nodded and wondered if the Hogwarts library had some books on how to take care of House Elves.

"Oh- are you hungry!" Theo asked. Harry thought about it and realized that breakfast at Hogwarts had been a long, long time ago. His stomach grumbled in response and Theo laughed. The boy ran across the kitchen to where a series of small doors were set into the wall. They didn't look like regular cupboards and Harry watched curiously as Theo opened one and pulled out a half eaten loaf of bred.

He ran back to Harry, set the bread on the counter, found two plates and a knife, carefully cut two slices from the loaf, and handed one plate to Harry.

"Here you go!" He said happily. Harry stared at the single, dry slice of bread in disbelief.

This was dinner?

. . . . .

A/N: Nott Keep is such a vividly imagined place in my head- I hope it comes across well in this story.

Let me know what you think! Your follows, favs, and reviews put a silly smile on my face.


	4. Chapter 4

IV.

"Theo, you've got to be joking!" Harry stared down at the slice of dry, plain bread in disbelief. Even at their worst and most restrictive, the Dursley's at least shared their meals with Harry. Sure, he wasn't given as large or delicious of portions as Dudley. But they never restricted him to just bread and water. Harry cast a suspicious glance over Theo's suddenly suspiciously thin frame and pale face.

"I'm-" Theo seemed to have collapsed in on himself as he stared down at measly dinner. "I just- normally, Euphie would make all the meals. But with her so sick…" His voice trailed off in a miserable whisper.

"She's been sick for two years," Harry whispered aghast. Had Theo really been living off of bread for two years?

"I know!" Theo looked up wildly, "We'll go to Diagon Alley and eat in one of the restaurants there. No one will question us since this can be a celebratory meal! Or we can say you have special dietary restrictions and can't eat at home- it would only be for a few weeks- just until we are back at Hogwarts!" He smiled at Harry desperately.

Harry shook his head slowly. Why hadn't Lord Nott done anything about this? If his own child was reduced to eating bread, wouldn't any father ensure. . . well, something? Another house elf or a cook or something? But he hadn't. Harry had a sudden, sinking feeling, that maybe it was better that Lord Nott was away on business right now.

"You got the bread from over here?" He asked, hopping off the stool at the tale and crossing to the strange wall with all the doors. One of the doors, the one Theo had opened, had a broken hinge and was having a little off-kilter. Harry opened the door and peered inside the small, stone cupboard.

"I think we get regular deliveries from one of the farms," Theo explained as he trailed after her. "At least, there is always a new loaf of bread in the morning."

"What is in the other ones?" Harry asked, trailing his hand over the closed doors. His fingers looked weird- thin and delicate with large, oval nails. Harry made a fist and tucked his hand in his pants pockets. He had forgotten for a moment that he wasn't in his own body.

"I don't know." Theo admitted and then, at Harry's look of shock, raised his hands placatingly, "I can't open them. The bread one is broken, but the others- only the house elves, the cooks, or the Lady of the House can open them. It's an old rule."

"I wonder…" Harry ran his fingers over another door and then gave the handle an experimental tug. The door resisted for a moment, then unlatched with a click. Theo gasped and Harry grinned excitedly, "Brilliant! Eggs!"

. . . . . . .

"Where did you learn to do this?"

Theo watched in fascinated amazement as Harry fried up onions, potatoes, eggs and bacon in a large frying plan. After the initial success of the eggs, Harry had been quick to investigate the other cupboards to find that they had a lovely collection of vegetables, bacon, butter and more on hand. It didn't take long to find a frying pan and convince Theo to make a fire in the old, iron stove in the corner.

"I… don't know." Harry hedged as he flipped the eggs. He wasn't about to admit that he'd spent most of his childhood in a kitchen, making breakfasts for the Dursley's. Snape's excuse about losing his memories was working in his favor.

"Well, it smells brilliant."

"Thanks," Harry was horrified to feel his cheeks heat up at the praise- he never blushed! But it was nice to have a compliment for his cooking- rather than being yelled at for taking too long or making a mess. "Why did you make the fire by hand?"

Theo sighed, "I'm still underage and Lord Nott never got around to taking the trace off my wand."

Harry frowned at their dinner. So, not only was Theo abounded for weeks at a time, but he also had to live like a Muggle? That was barbaric!

Harry paused. That didn't sound like how he thought. . . Could being in this body be changing the way he thought? Or just… did having magic make things really that much easier?

Shaking his head, Harry dished out their breakfast hash onto two plates.

"Dinner is served!"

It was gratifying and horrifying how quickly Theo inhaled the basic food.

. . . . . . .

After they had tried to feed Euphie some of the dinner and replaced her water, cleaned up the kitchen and bid the house-elf a good night, it was too late to return back to Hogwarts. Also, Harry didn't quite want to deal with the stress of explaining to Ron and the Headmaster where he had spent his evening or figuring out where he would sleep. It felt awkward, in this new body, to sleep in his usual bed in the Gryffindor Boy's dorm. But at the same time, sleeping with the girl's would be just as embarrassing!

Plus, it just didn't seem right to leave Theo all alone in the Keep by himself.

. . . . . .

"This is your room!" Theo announced, opening a heavy wooden door. Harry peaked in to see an enormous room - easily the size of one floor of the Dursley house. A four-poster bed with dark wood and pale green hangings sat in the middle of the room- an island of comfort. An enormous armoire hulked in the corner. A writing desk and a comfy chair in green velvet sat on the other side of the room. The walls were decorated with exquisite tapestries of -

"Unicorns!" Harry breathed, as the luminous white animals serenely grazed over the green hills. He walked up to a hanging and hesitantly lay his hand against the woven cloth. It felt warm to the touch and as though he could pick out every thread if he just concentrated.

A unicorn mare looked up and walked over to his hand, lowering her woven nose to nudge his fingers. Harry laughed in delight, which seemed to attract the other unicorns. One or two left their hangings to appear in the one beside the door.

"They like you," Theo whispered in awe, coming up behind him.

"They're wonderful," Harry said. He reached up on his tiptoes and tried to stroke the threads of the unicorn's mane. The animal shook its head as if it could actually feel the touch. This was amazing magic- much better than the paintings in Hogwarts. It felt real and tangible in a way that much of the magic in class didn't. Was this what family magic meant? If he had grown up in a Potter house, would he have felt this level of calm and comfort around Potter artifacts?

"Where's your room?" He asked suddenly, turning to Theo, "What tapestries do you have?"

Theo grinned and showed Harry where his room was located across the hall. It was a similarly enormous room but looked more lived in- with old clothes were strewn about and school books piled on the desk. Theo's room housed tapestries that depicted a deep forest- with trunks of the trees stretching from floor to ceiling. Woven birds flickered between the trees and Harry thought he caught sight of an elusive deer sipping from a cloth stream. Even Theo's bed hangings around his bed were made of the same, forested tapestry.

"It's beautiful," he breathed. Theo nodded happily.

"I like the forest," He confessed. "It feels safe. Like there are lots of places to hide."

Before Harry could comment on that odd remark, Theo dashed towards the armor and began rummaging through the drawers. He emerged a second later with a rumpled piece of linen.

"A nightshirt!" He explained triumphantly. "I know it's for wizards and not witches, but it's better than sleeping in your clothes."

"Thanks?" Harry unrolled the shirt and held it up to his body. It was long enough to cover his toes and seemed unisex as far as he could tell.

"You need a new wardrobe," Theo said seriously, "We can't have you wearing boy clothes or Gryffindor colors. Oh! I know! We can go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. I bet you need a wand too!"

Harry started to protest that he had a wand, but then remembered that his holly and phoenix feather hadn't responded to him at all. It felt like a betrayal to buy another, but he didn't want to spend the next three months without magic! Especially if he was to keep up with his classes at Hogwarts.

Diagon Alley wouldn't take too long anyway, Harry reasoned. He could always stop by Hogwarts afterward and check on Hermione and Ron then.

Before Harry bid Theo goodnight, the boy flung his arms around Harry and gave him a tight, rib crunching hug.

"Sleep well, Dora," He whispered. "This was the best day of my life."

. . . . . . .

Harry woke in a cold sweat and at first couldn't tell where he was. The room was too cold and echoing to be either of his rooms at Privet Drive. And he couldn't hear the familiar snuffling and snores of the other boys in his dorm.

Suddenly, he remembered: he was in Nott's Keep. Something had awoken him in the very early hours of the morning. Harry tensed- wishing he had his wand with him to cast a Lumos if nothing else- and listened intently for what had woken him.

Then, a sharp pain echoed just under his heart and Harry gasped, as the urgency radiated through his magic. Theo! Something was happening to his twin!

Harry through the heavy covers off the bed and dashed out of his room and into the hall. The Keep was pitch black at this time of night, but after stumbling into a wall only once, Harry found the door to Theo's room.

Pushing open the door, Harry peered into the darkness- not remembering where Theo's bed had been located. Suddenly, a faint, glowing light appeared at his right. He glanced over quickly and, to his amazement, saw a unicorn appear between the trees of the forest. It nodded at Harry once and then began to pick its way through the trees until it disappeared.

Harry waited, then saw the glow appear before him. That must be Theo! The unicorn had found its way onto the tapestries around his bed.

Breathing a quick thankful prayer, Harry hurried across the cold floor and pushed the tapestries open. Theo was lost in a nightmare. His sheets were soaked with sweat and knotted around his legs. Alarm leaped in Harry's chest.

"Theo!" He cried, shaking the boy's shoulder, "Theo wake up!"

The boy jerked away from his hands, then startled up in alarm- arms raised as though to ward off a blow. When no strike came, he slowly lowered his hands and glanced up.

"Dora?" He whispered and Harry nodded, before realizing that Theo couldn't see him.

"Yes. Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Theo muttered. "I'm fine." Harry could hear a sniff and then the sound of a face being hastily scrubbed with the back of a hand. How many nights had Harry woken up from some nightmare, alone in his cupboard under the stairs, to do the same thing? No one had ever been there for him.

But something in his magic had reacted when Theo was in pain. Had alerted him to the boy's terror and suffering. Was this just because Harry had used one of Theo's hairs in the polyjuice? Or was there something else- family magic that let you know when someone you loved was hurting? If so, how could Lord Nott stay away!

"Sure," Harry agreed pleasantly, climbing up on the bed next to him. "Do you mind if I sleep here for the rest of the night? Being alone in the room can be scary."

"Ok," Theo agreed almost too quickly. "That's a good idea. I don't want you to be scared here." He scooted over to the far side so that Harry had plenty of room.

It should have been uncomfortable to share a bed, but Harry was asleep before he could think of it too much.

. . . . . .

A/N: Hope you are enjoying reading this story as much as I am enjoying writing it!

As always, your follows, favs and reviews make my day!


	5. Chapter 5

V.

"I really should go back to Hogwarts today," Harry told Theo over breakfast. A fresh loaf of bread had appeared in the cupboard just as Theo had promised along with new eggs and some apples. Harry had quickly whipped up a batch of toads in holes, which Theo deemed delicious, and found a tin of tea tucked in the far corner of a shelf, so they had a proper English Breakfast.

"But what about holiday shopping?" Theo's face fell dramatically, "We were going to go to Diagon Alley and get you a wand and new robes and look at the shops and get sweets and-"

It all sounded very tempting to be honest. Christmases were always a low point for Harry who had never particularly enjoyed watching Dudley attack dozens of presents while he unwrapped a pair of old socks. Last Christmas was the first proper celebration- what with the gifts from the Weasleys and Hagrid and eating dinner with the Professors. It would be pretty smashing to go see Diagon Alley all dressed up for Christmas.

"Alright," Harry conceded and Theo brightened immediately, "But I have to go back to Hogwarts afterward. Just for a little."

He'd get some chocolate or something for Ron and Hermione as an apology for abandoning them after the disastrous potion accident.

. . . . . . .

Diagon Alley dressed up for Yule was even more magical than Harry had hoped. The little shops were lit with strings of fairy lights- real fairies in some cases- and the snow fell white and crisp on the roads. A choir of yuletide singers stood on the corner, singing songs that sounded almost familiar, between the bustle and hustle of children laughing, parents shopping and shopkeepers calling out. Theo and Harry stumbled out of the floo, hands held tight, and shared near-identical grins.

"Robes first, I think," Theo said and began tugging Harry down the street and Harry could only agree. They had compromised on Harry wearing half of his uniform but one of Theo's old robes- since no one would believe a Nott would willingly wear Gryffindor robes.

"Daphne says that no one in their right mind shops for normal robes at Madame Malkins and that anyone with any taste has to go to the Silk Worm's Sonnet." Harry had never heard of such a place but was happy to be guided along as he eagerly devoured the sights of holiday cheer in the wizarding world.

They stopped in front of an elegant door and were ushered inside by a pretty shopgirl with a curious look. Her eyebrows raised further as Theo ordered a 'full-set' for his sister.

"And who's tab shall we be placing your order?" She asked. Theo fumbled around his neck and produced a heavy, stone ring that was elegantly carved into a winding, twisting pattern. The girl leaned closer and her eyes widened. "Oh, of course, Master- and Mistress- Nott. Right this way. We will be most eager to place your order."

Theo grinned happily at an astonished Harry as they were led to superbly comfortable chairs, given their choice of tea or hot cocoa, and a very elegant woman appeared. She introduced herself as Madame Linena and, over her own cup of tea, began to quiz Harry on every possible aspect of her life.

Did she prefer dancing or singing? What was her favorite season? Did she spend much time in the kitchens or potions rooms? How often did she find herself riding Pegasi? Which was her favorite- periwinkle or eggshell blue?

At first, Harry tried to guess what someone like Dorothea might answer, which only seemed to confuse and irritate the older woman, so he switched to answering honestly. After that, the questioning went much more smoothly.

"Very well," Madame Linena concluded, "The final question is, which of these do you prefer?" She waved her wand and several different swatches of cloth floated over to where Harry was seated. Harry leaned forward but could tell little difference between the colors. Finally, he reached out and touched each cloth. As soon as he did, their differences were immediately apparent. This one felt slippery. This one felt rough. That one made him sneeze uncontrollably. Finally, he found one that felt 'right,' and looked up excitedly.

"This one," He told Madame Linena, who nodded seriously and, with another flick of her wand, sent that particular swatch flying away.

"An excellent choice, Mistress Nott. You truly live up to your family's name. Now the first dress is complete. Let us try it on."

. . . . . . .

"I'm sorry if that was horribly boring for you," Harry told Theo for the third time in as many minutes. "I didn't know it would take that long. Or that there were so many choices."

Or that it could be so fun, he added silently. All his life, his clothes had been hand-me-down's from Dudley and were either stained, holely, or so large he could swim in them. He hadn't realized the clothes could be worn and actually make you feel good.

So, even though he was wearing very much a girl's dress, it was the softest, most comfortable thing he had ever put on his body. Plus, the skirt flew out when he spun around which was fantastic. Pairing the dress with a small cape, and a matching white fur muff and hat, and new kid boots- Harry barely felt like himself anymore!

"I had fun," Theo protested.

"Really?"

"It was fun to watch you have so much fun," Theo repeated. Harry grinned at him and caught his reflection in a store's window. He looked wonderful- like the most stylish of witches in the magazines all the girl's read. He felt like a movie star. Like someone special and important. Not because of something they had done as a baby, but because of who they were and what they could do at this very moment.

Sponatneoulsy, Harry reached out and grabbed Theo's hand.

"I had a lot of fun," He confessed. "Thank you."

. . . . . . . .

"Ah yes, beech and unicorn hair," Ollivander studied Harry with his luminous eyes thoughtfully as Harry spun in a circle- a long, olive colored ribbon trailing out of his new wand. It had taken some convincing to coax Harry to step back into the wand maker's shop. First, it still felt like a betrayal of his old Holly and Phoenix feather one. Second, after taking ages in the clothing shop, he dreaded another hour long session finding the right wand for him. Finally, and most secretly, he was worried that the mysterious old man might somehow see through his transformation to the boy underneath.

But his fears were unfounded. Ollivander hadn't even questioned the sudden appearance of Dorathea Nott, hadn't even asked her a question about her origins. It had taken three tries, rather than three hundred, to find a wand which leapt to quiet life in his hand. Harry had wrapped his fingers around the soft wood and it had felt right, much like the tapestry magic in Nott Keep had felt right. An experimental wave of his new wand produced not colorful sparks, but a long, silk ribbon. Harry smiled.

"I sold a similar wand many years ago," the old man continued and Harry's heart seized in his chest. Surely the prophecy couldn't have followed him into this body! Surely the Dark Lord didn't have two wands?

"Your mother, I believe," Olivander concluded and Harry let out a breath or relief. "Yes, was it beech or was it willow- Willow, I believe. Unicorn hair, quite thin, quite swishy. Excellent charm work potential, but not much stamina."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Theo lean forward, drinking up the small bits of information hungrily. Harry dropped his wand and the ribbon slowly drifted down around his feet. Theo bent and picked it up quickly.

"It's good luck," He muttered, knotting the ribbon into a compact braid quickly, "To keep the first thing you make with your wand. Good protection. Or a sign of favor when courting." He tucked the ribbon into Harry's pocket. Ollivander nodded in agreement.

"A good wand," He told Harry, "Solid. Be true to yourself, keep your mind free and flexible, and it will serve you well."

Such a different prediction than his first wand, Harry thought quietly as Theo once again showed the stone ring as payment. But he almost preferred this one.

. . . . . . . .

"Where do you want to go next?" Theo's nose and cheeks were shiny with cold, but his eyes were bright. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun in an afternoon. After collecting Harry's new wand, they had gone sweet tasting, browsed the stacks of Florish and Blotts, dared each other to stick their hands in buckets of beetle eyes and toad spawn, and pet the softest cats in the world at the Pet Euporium. "We could-"

"Nott?" A familiar voice called out in disbelief. "Theodore Nott? Out in public? With a - who are you?"

Theo and Harry turned as one to see Draco Malfoy, of all people, arms loaded with brightly wrapped gifts and nose pink with cold, gawking at them. Lucius Malfoy and a woman who could only have been Draco's mother trailed behind him. They were dressed warmly and beautifully, Harry noted and then was surprised that he noticed.

"Now Draco," Draco's mother swept up behind the boy and patted his head disapprovingly, "Is that anyway to speak to a lady?

"Not just any lady," Lucius Malfoy commented, eyeing Harry critically, "With that coloring, you must surely be a Nott."

"My sister," Theo said quietly. His hand sought out Harry's and held fast.

"Really?" Lucius' eyes widened in surprised delight, but his smile reminded Harry of a snake. "This calls for a celebration. Please, you must allow us to treat you both to dinner."

Theo and Harry shared a look. Harry bit his lip and Theo sighed.

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy. We would be most honored."

. . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you for following this story so far! It has been very fun to write such a fluffy story so far.


	6. Chapter 6

VI.

"We have to get our stories straight," Theo hissed to Harry as they made an elaborate show of handing their coats to an ingratiating maitre d'e. The Malfoy's had guided them down a narrow alley to an elegant door. After a year and a half in the wizarding world, Harry was no longer surprised to see that the door opened into an entirely different world.

The restaurant was expansive- floating lights hung over tables creating small pools of light and intimacy like islands on a wine-dark sea. Waiters move silently between tables replacing plates and filling drinks so quickly that they could have been magic. Uncle Vernon boasted of the dinners his company hosted in some of the fanciest restaurants in London, but he doubted that any of them held a candle to this place.

"Everything alright, my dears?" Lady Malfoy called to them and Theo quickly handed over his cloak.

"Oh yes," He said with a thin smile, "Um, would you excuse us for a second?"

"We need the restroom," Harry finished without thinking.

. . . . . . .

"Ok, what's the story," Harry whispered, once they were well away from the Malfoys. "Could we just tell them that I arrived at Hogwarts by magic?" Theo frowned hard at his clenched hands, then shook his head.

"They'd ask too many questions- and I can't just have you show them the proof. That's not allowed." The boy crossed his arms tight around his chest and then straightened with a smile. "We'll say you were stolen. As a baby. By muggles!"

Harry blinked in amazement, "Does that…. Does that happen? Often?" Theo waved a hand dismissively. He was clearly already thinking through the entire lie, looking for weak points,

"We were born- January 23rd, by the way- twins. But- at St. Mungo's, I think - an Order Member tried to steal us- but only successfully got you-"

"Order Member?" Harry interrupted.

"Order of the Pheonix. They were terrorists. They did lots of things like stealing babies and attacking the weak, or so Lord Nott told me." Theo shrugged and returned to spinning his story, "So they stole you and - and- gave you to Muggles. To try and convert you!"

"Only the Muggles didn't like magic," Harry added, thinking about his childhood with the Dursleys, "So they made me clean, and cook all their meals, and locked me in the cupboard under the staircase to sleep!"

Theo gave him an odd look, but nodded- accepting the elaboration of the story, "But you escaped- through- through- accidental magic! You apparated to Hogwarts on sheer instinct!"

"But during the process I lost most of my memories. But luckily Snape found me and brought me to you!" Harry concluded confidently and the two children grinned at each other in excitement. "It's a perfect story."

. . . . . . . .

"That is quite the story." Lucius Malfoy said after a long moment of silence. Draco was sitting opposite them, his mouth gaping like a fish. At the other end of the table, Lady Malfoy was sniffing and dabbing at her eyes.

"Yes," Harry said, spearing another piece of fish with his tiny fork and lifting it to his mouth, "That's what happened. I don't remember much, but I am glad to have found Theo again."

"To think," Lady Malfoy whispered, stowing her handkerchief in her small, gilt purse, "That Dumbledore would go so far to discredit our Pureblood lines."

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked in shock. Dumbledore would never steal babies! Not the grandfatherly old headmaster of Hogwarts. That man was so kind. And had sat with him last year to eat candy and tell him about his mother's love.

"He's the leader of the Order of the Pheonix," Theo whispered, "He hates Slytherins. And Purebloods. And anyone who disagrees with him."

Draco proved to have as sharp of hearing in a restaurant as he did at school because he immediately interrupted, "But he loves Harry Potter. Perfect Potter- can never do anything wrong-"

"That's enough Draco." Lucius snapped without looking at his son. Draco immediately shut his mouth and applied himself to his own fish for which Harry was very grateful. If they ever found out who Harry actually was, it would be so completely embarrassing.

"You don't think Narcissa-" Lucius was frowning past his wife as he tapped his knife against the edge of his plate. The gentle ting ting ting was absorbed into the velvety darkness around their table.

"It would be very convenient," His wife demurred, "If Lord Nott had been sent away-"

"And something unfortunate happened to his heir-"

"Then to reveal the long lost daughter-"

"Who just so happened to be able to revive the ancient and Nobel line-"

"While being firmly pro-muggle and Dumbledore-"

The adult Malfoy's gave each other a significant look as their voices trailed off into silence. Then Lucius fixed his eyes on Harry. There was a predatory, calculating look in his eyes that Harry didn't like.

"Theodore, you are quite sure that this girl is your sister?" He asked sharply. Theo jumped.

"Um, yes. She is," He said forcefully and Harry flinched internally. Maybe he should have told Theo- right from the beginning- but he couldn't say anything now. Not with the Malfoy's right there. "The family magic's respond to her."

"And what does your father say about this?"

Theo stiffened, "He is away right now." He said flatly.

There was another long moment of silence where Theo studied his plate, Lucius studied Theo and Narcissa studied her husband. Across the table, Draco sent Harry a sympathetic look. Apparently, these half conversations and considering silences were quite common in the Malfoy household.

Finally, Lady Malfoy broke the silence, by rising to her feet. "I am so sorry to cut our wonderfully informative dinner short," She said sweetly, crossing over to kiss first Draco and then Lucius on the cheek, "But I am afraid that I have several letters to write and must bid you adieu. Theodore, darling, do give our love to your father the next time you see him. And Dorothea-" Harry found himself lifted to his feet and enclosed in a desperate, tight hug. He froze for a second but found himself returning the gesture to Lady Malfoy. She leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"Dorothea, we are so, so grateful that you found your way back to us. You are never going to be alone again." Then she pulled back and placed a hand under Harry's chin, raising his head to look at her, "I've always wanted a daughter, you know. We simply must have you over for tea soon. There is so much you need to learn about your culture."

With a rush of silver robes, Lady Malfoy disappeared into the darkness and Dorothea took a shaking seat next to Theo. Under the table, she reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"So Dora- do you mind if I call you Dora-" Draco asked brightly, "Where do you think you'll be sorted?"

. . . . . . . .

"Is it true?" Theo asked, as soon as they had collected their cloaks, bid farewell to the Malfoy's and approached the floor.

"Is what?"

"That you were actually stolen by Dumbledore and given to muggles?" Theo's thin face looked pinched in worry. Harry shifted uncomfortably, grabbing a handful of floo powder.

"I don't know," He hedged, "I don't have my memories."

"Yeah- but-" Theo grabbed her arm before Harry could throw the powder into the fire, "You know how to cook obviously. And without magic. You didn't have a wand. You don't have your memories, I know, but you made up a lot of details really quickly for our story." Harry bit his lip and glanced at the toes of his new shoes. He had added in a few stories of his life with the Dursleys, changed a little to protect them, to give their lie more weight.

It had been satisfying to see Draco's eyes light up with horror when Harry mentioned wearing the hand me down clothes and having to spend hours gardening in the summer. No one- not even Ron and Hermione- knew the full extent of the story. Though Ron did know about the bars on the windows of his room, his friend had never asked for more details or seemed particularly upset after talking to his parents.

Harry glanced up and searched Theo's face, "Does it matter?" He finally asked, "If it was true?"

Theo shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry. "You're my sister, Thea. Nothing else matters."

. . . . . . . .

Euphie was waiting for them as they stepped out of the fire. She was leaning on a cane and wearing a heavily embroidered, if very old, pillowcase. Theo immediately picked himself off the ground and ran to her, with Harry close on his heels.

"Euphie! What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest!"

"Master and Mistress Nott," The house-elf rasped, "There is a Mr. Dumbledore waiting in the sitting room for you."

Theo and Harry exchanged a startled look- horrified on Theo's face and guilty on Harry's. He had been gone from Hogwarts for over a whole day and hadn't even checked in with Professor Dumbledore of his friends.

Theo grabbed her hand and began tugging her desperately to the opposite corridor. "Quick, we can hide you in the storerooms. He'll never find you there-"

"Ah, Mr. Nott and our mysterious guest," a familiar voice called out. The two children froze and turned to see Professor Dumbledore silhouetted in the door frame. "I believe we have some things to discuss."

. . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you for reading the story. Your follows, favs, and reviews make my day!

To the guest: thank you for your reviews! Yes, it is better for everyone that Lord Nott is not around, but Harry has an idealized idea of family relations still.

Also, as to why Draco is out of Hogwarts for the day- the Malfoy's decided that while Lucius is under investigation for dark artifacts, maybe it's not a good idea to have the precocious, bad with secrets Draco strutting about the house, especially when he wanted to stay in the castle for the drama? But Narcissa still wanted to spoil him, so they took him to Diagon Alley for an early christmas gift.


	7. Chapter 7

VII.

"I am very disappointed, Harry." Professor Dumbledore said gravely, "Have I done something to frighten you?"

Harry shook his head miserably, staring into the depths of the fine, china teacup. They were sitting in the Headmaster's office which seemed more sinister than Harry had remembered. The same instruments whirled and flashed around him, but they no longer seemed harmlessly magical. Harry curled deeper in on himself and wished, oddly, that Theo was still there.

"Harry, I am concerned for you, my boy." The Headmaster continued, "You undergo a frightening potions accident and then before anyone can talk to you, Professor Snape says that you willingly left the safety of Hogwarts with Theodore Nott- a Slytherin, Harry."

Harry glanced up, eyes flashing in anger, a protest on the tip of his tongue before he collected himself. Harry shrugged again and glanced at his lap. Nott Keep was safe. Probably safer than Hogwarts with all of its defenses, at least for Harry right now. There weren't any professors there who tried to kill him or murderous voices in the walls. Plus, Theo wasn't 'just' a Slytherin.

Dumbledore sighed and set his own teacup down, "We've been worried about you Harry. Ron and Hagrid especially."

For the first time, Harry felt the stirrings of guilt and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It wasn't that he hadn't thought of Ron and Hermione. It was just that he had been so busy- exploring the Keep, then Diagon Alley, and then the Malfoy's - it had all been so much fun. More fun than he had ever had.

"I'm sorry," He whispered and glanced up apologetically. The Professor nodded, looking slightly relieved, then stern again. Harry gnawed on the edge of his lip and wished he could take off his cape. But it felt like if he moved, he'd be in danger of the older man's wrath. Harry suddenly frowned. That didn't sound like him.

"It's alright, my boy." The Headmaster said kindly, "But we can't have you running off again until we create the cure. I know you are probably missing your bed in Gryffindor-"

"I have to go back!" Harry interrupted, his heart hammering in his chest, "I have to go back to Nott Keep!" The frown returned to the old man's face, more ferocious than ever and Harry flinched back in the chair.

"And why is that, Harry?"

Harry hesitated, biting his lip and twisting his ankles around each other. He risked a glance at the Headmaster's blue eyes and took a breath. He could trust Dumbledore. Whatever the Malfoy's said, Dumbledore had always looked out for him.

"Well, Harry?"

The story poured out then- slowly and fragmented as Harry tried to explain the necessity of his return without embarrassing Theo by revealing how poorly he had been living. But he mentioned Euphie, Theo's devotion and concern, and the need of two Notes to complete the Yule rituals. Dumbledore listened impassively. But when Harry finished, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry Harry. Young Nott's compassion is a credit to him, but I can not let you return. This is a family concern between Young and Lord Nott-"

"I am family!" Harry broke in desperately, "Right now- at least- I am a Nott. Dorothea Nott. And Theo needs me!" His heart was beginning to beat so quickly that he felt light-headed. Fear and desperation coiled around his throat. Unbeknownst to him, the curtains and rugs of the office were beginning to fray and unravel.

"Harry-" Dumbledore said warningly.

"I can spy for you!" Harry interrupted. Then froze wondering where the words- where the idea- even came from. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose impressively and he gestured to insist Harry continue.

Harry took a deep breath and told the second half of the story: the dinner with the Malfoy's, the improvised story Theo and he had concocted, the Malfoy's assumption of Dumbledore's involvement, and Lady Malfoy's sudden departure. As Harry spoke, Dumbledore's face grew more and more grave until little remained of the kindly Headmaster that Harry had always known. For a long moment, there was silence, then Dumbledore sighed.

"This complicates things more than you can know, Harry." He said flatly, "You compliment things more than you can know. However, I would be lying if I didn't say I was grateful for the forewarning."

Harry nodded and watched as Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, clearly deep in thought. Harry hoped he hadn't ruined everything, hoped that Dorothea hadn't caused too many problems. But what was he supposed to have done? Not gone with Theo? Not accepted the Malfoy's invitation to dinner? Harry went back to nibbling on his lip.

"Very well," Dumbledore leaned forward, once again the kind and genial headmaster. Only this time, Harry didn't feel much relieved. "You may return to Nott's Keep to help Young Nott complete his family ritual. But you must spend an equal amount of time in Hogwarts with your friends."

Harry brightened. This was brilliant, but Professor Dumbledore fixed him with a sharp gaze, all traces of the kind headmaster once more forgotten.

"Be careful Harry. You are entering a den of vipers who do not wish you well. I can only help and protect you if you tell me everything that happens."

Harry nodded quickly, eager to be out of the room. Headmaster Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for another long moment, then nodded and summoned Professor McGonagall to take Harry to Gryffindor Tower.

. . . . . . .

"Bloody hell," Ron repeated for the fifth time in as many minutes. "You're wearing a dress."

"You've said that already," He snapped and regretted it when Ron flinched back. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably on the edge of the worn armchair. Gryffindor Tower was not as he remembered it. Or, maybe it was, but Harry was just noticing new details. It was too warm, or he was finally dressed properly for winter and now found the fire excessive. The rugs and chairs were worn with years of use. The tapestries on the wall were faded and non-magical. Still, he wanted to go examine the wall hanging and see if it was magical, but if the magic had just faded. Harry resisted the urge. Ron was already staring at him like he had grown too many heads and Harry knew any more unusual behavior would be too much for his friend to handle.

"You really don't sound like him," The redhead muttered, then leaned forward to peer into Harry's face. Harry leaned back, "Or look like him."

"I'm not-" Harry hesitated, "- me. Right now. I mean, I am still me. But not." He didn't know how to explain it, but Ron's frank astonishment and disbelief were not helping. They lapsed into silence again with Ron sneaking bewildered glances at Harry's new face and Harry glancing about the common room, thankfully free of people over the holiday. What would it be like when school began again? All the Gryffindors who knew him as Harry, staring at him and whispering and mentioning how he wasn't acting like Harry Potter. He already knew he didn't act like how everyone believed the boy who lived should act.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked as the silence stretched out too long. Ron brightened at the change of subject.

"Oh- they had to take her to St. Mungo's!"

Harry gasped in horror- "What! Why? Is she ok?" Visions of horrible transformations built from a childhood of catching glimpses of late-night b-rated horror movies flashed through his mind. Had Hermione disintegrated into a blob of flesh? Or been possessed? Or slowly having her life force sucked away?

"Oh yeah." Ron reassured her blithely, "Madame Pomphrey couldn't reverse the enchantment. Something Hermione did with the polyjuice made it more permanent than normal- which is why you're stuck like that too. Good thing I got it right with Crabbe! Can you imagine if I was stuck like that forever?"

Ron broke into laughter while Harry remained frozen in worry. This had been his idea to break into the common room and find out of the Heir of Slytherin. That seemed so stupid and short-sighted now. They could have just asked Draco. Or looked up a family tree and see if the Malfoy's came from the Slytherin line. Now, Harry was Dorothea and Hermione was in the hospital. And why? Because he had wanted to save the day.

Harry vowed to think through his plans more carefully in the future. He didn't want any more friends to be hurt because of him.

"I think we should-" Harry began when a knock at the common room door echoed through the room. Both second years froze and looked at each other. Then Ron shrugged and hopped off the couch. Harry didn't miss the look of relief that crossed his face at the distraction.

"Probably someone forgot the password." He ran down the corridor and out of Harry's sight. Harry frowned at the fire. Ron was acting oddly - clearly uncomfortable to be around Harry in a new body. But had Harry really changed that much? He found the length of knotted ribbon in his pocket- the product of his first connection to his wand- and squeezed it gratefully. A knot of tension disappeared from between his shoulder blades.

"Malfoy! What are you doing here? No- you can't come in-" Ron's angry shout echoed through the common room and Harry leaped to his feet and flew down the hallway. There, craning his neck around Ron's thin frame was Draco Malfoy. When the Slytherin boy saw Harry, his face relaxed and he took a step back.

"Out of the way Weasley. I'm here to speak to Dorothea."

"Doro-what what?" Ron sputtered, but before Ron could possibly ruin his cover, Harry stepped neatly around Ron and into the hallway. He shot Ron an apologetic look over his shoulder.

"Sorry Ron, I didn't get a chance to tell you, but I met up with Malfoy and his parents in Diagon Alley today. Did I leave something in the restaurant?" He asked Draco. It had been so dark and Harry had received so many new things today, that he wouldn't be surprised if he had left a package or glove or something behind. But Draco shook his head and sent Ron a distracting glare.

"It's private," He said, holding out an arm grandly. Harry stared at it stupidly until Malfoy asked, "Would you walk with me, Miss Nott?" Harry blinked, sent Ron an apologetic glance and then threaded his hand through Draco's arm like he had seen Lady Malfoy do with her husband. As Draco led them away, his head raised ridiculously high, Harry heard Ron's strangled sound of surprise.

"What do you want?" She asked Draco once they had turned the corner and the portrait had disappeared. One dinner did not erase a year of rivalry and mean comments towards Hermione. But he had agreed to spy on Draco and the Malfoy's in order to be able to go back home. Well, to Nott Keep.

"Why did you call him Ron?" Malfoy demanded, dropping his arm. "How do you even know him?"

Harry thought quickly, "Ron and Hermione were the ones who found me when I first arrived here." He said- it wasn't a complete lie. They had been the first people who befriended him. Draco nodded but still scowled.

"You should call them Granger and Weasley," He informed Harry loftily. "You've only been introduced to them once and it's important for people like us to keep up the proper and respectful distance. You only call someone by their first name when you are good friends."

"You called me Dorothea," Harry pointed out and was amused to see Draco blush and look away awkwardly.

"Well, I hope we can be good friends," Draco mumbled, "The Notts are a good family and we did have dinner and Theo- Oh! Are you ok?"

He suddenly rounded on Harry and stared deep into his eyes as though able to discern the depths of Harry's thoughts from such a glance. Harry nodded uncertainly and Draco let out a breath of relief.

"Oh good. Theo fire called us, absolutely frantic, saying that Dumbledore had stolen you away. Again! So Mother promised to get in touch with me and have me come to check on you, which was no easy task, let me tell you. I had to think to myself- if I was Dumbledore where would I put the lost Nott daughter. Well, it couldn't be the dungeons, because he hates Slytherin. So I sent Crabbe to Ravenclaw and Greg to Hufflepuff and I-"

"Draco." Harry interrupted sharply. It was late and exhaustion was beginning to creep into his bones. "What happened to Theo?"

"Oh- nothing. He was just worried. But, I have found you and you are ok. So now I will go call Mother and tell her that you are alright, so she can tell Theo that you are alright." Draco took a deep breath as he finally reached the end of his explanation. Guilt began gnawing at Harry's stomach again. Of course, Theo had been terrified. Harry was rather warmed that the other boy had pulled whatever strings he had to in order to make sure Harry was alright.

"Thank you," Harry told Draco simply and Draco beamed, "Please tell your mother to tell Theo that I am alright and that I'll be able to return to the Keep for Yule."

Draco looked shocked, "Not tonight?"

"I don't think so," Harry shook his head sadly. It was strange, but he was already wanting to see his unicorn tapestries again. And what if Theo had another nightmare? Harry looked up in surprise as Draco grabbed his wrist and began dragging him down the hall. "Where are you taking me?"

"Slytherin dorms," Draco said succinctly. "None of the girls are there, but I'm sure you can use Pansy's bed. I'll explain everything to her so she won't mind."

"I think Dumbledore wants me to spend the night in the Gryffindor dorms." He whispered and shuddered suddenly. It was late and he had had a very busy, very exhausting day. He wanted to go to bed but didn't know which one to go to. His old one in the boy's dorm was familiar, but it would be so awkward with Ron there making comments and none of his clothes would fit or feel as good as the dress he wore now. But if he went to the girl's dorm he'd be sleeping in someone else's bed or Hermione's which would almost be worse than sleeping in the Slytherin girl's dorm.

"Hey- hey- don't cry," Draco said worriedly, and Harry found to his amazement that tears were beginning to stream down his cheeks. He covered his face in his hands and tried to fight back a sob. To his amazement, he felt Draco's arms wrap hesitantly around him and pat his back. To his greater amazement, Harry found himself leaning into Draco's shoulder to sob miserably.

"I just want to go home." He cried and wasn't sure where he meant.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you all for reading this story! Let me know what you think!

Updated: 9/19- explanation of how Draco found Harry per question from the guest reviewer.


	8. Chapter 8

VIII.

"I was so, so, so, so, so worried," Theo said as he helped Harry off the floor in front of the fireplace. Harry grinned at him and found himself speaking the truth.

"I'm glad to be back."

. . . . . . .

The night had not been so bad. After Harry had finally finished crying- and he had never before been able to cry so long before in his life- Draco had lent him a handkerchief and led him back to the Gryffindor Dorm. Once Ron had been convinced that Draco hadn't, in fact, done anything to make Harry cry, he had been nothing but helpful.

They had decided that Harry would spend one night in the Gryffindor girl's dorm, on Hermione's bed. But that Ron would bring Harry's blanket and pillow from his old bed. Ron had also fetched Harry his toothbrush and other night supplies before offering to ask Ginny if she wouldn't mind lending Harry a nightdress.

It was not his best night of sleep and it was odd to be in a different room without the sound of other people, but Harry had eventually drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.

. . . . . . .

It was Yule, or as Harry learned, the longest night of the year rather than Christmas itself. After sharing the scones and sausages that Harry had smuggled out of Hogwarts, which Theo loyally claimed was not as good as what Harry could cook, and saying good morning to Euphie, who was very happy to see Harry, the two Nott's spent the rest of the day preparing for the evening rituals.

Harry was fascinated to learn that there would be no complicated spells to memorize or potions to make or circles to draw on the ground. Instead, there were ropes. Lots of ropes. And ribbons. And threads. And knots.

"Well, we're Notts," Theo explained happily as he taught Harry a complicated braid using seven different colored ribbons, "Our family magic uses a lot of knot magic." And then went on to explain how every Pureblood family had a different strain of magic that their names sometimes could indicate.

"Take the Malfoy's for instance," He continued, fingers flying through a long plait as Harry slowly, and clumsily followed along, "Mal. Foi. Bad faith in French. You'd think that mean they'd be good at lying right? But it actually means that Malfoy's have empathy magic- they know when someone is lying or acting in bad faith. Or when they are being true." Theo laughed at Harry's thoughtful expression.

"I know- I know- Draco doesn't act very empathetic. But if you watch him closely, he's really good at reading a room or knowing just the right thing to say to make him the center of attention. Still, I think it would be more cool to be a witch."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, a thread of alarm running thorough him. But Theo just shrugged and tied off his long braid. Then he reached for another out of the enormous basket between them.

"Witches get two family magic's- their own and the family they marry into." He began plaiting the new ribbons quickly. "So when you eventually get married, you'll still be able to do Knot magic like this, but you'll also get to learn the magic of the family you marry into. It's really cool. Hey! Your braid is looking really good!"

. . . . . . .

Preparation for Yule began long before this night began. All throughout the year, Theo had been quietly busy tying knots in strings, braiding long plaits, and twisting cords around each other to form thick ropes.

"These," Theo explained, holding up a handful of thin chords, "were tied at midnight every night of a full moon. We'll untie them one knot at each of the cardinal directions- don't worry, I marked them off already- and repeat that three times."

"What do the colors and different knots mean?" Harry asked, tracing a finger over the complicate designs. Theo shrugged.

"Oh, you know. Health. Wealth. Fortune. Good will. Good harvest." He held up a long one with a particularly thick chord and blushed slightly, "Family. Whatever blessings you want in the future year. I do a lot, since it is just me right now. It can be tiring and a little lonely, but I like it." Harry remembered all the times that Theo had shown up to class looking a little under the weather. Was that because of so many late nights practicing his family magic?

"We'll do it together," He promised, "For the next full moon." Theo grinned at him happily.

. . . . . . .

Once the sun set they got to work.

Three times, they circled the Keep, pausing at each cardinal direction to undo dozens of knots, whisper an incantation and prayer of thanks, and release the captured magic into the Keep's wards. It was quiet, hypnotic work and Harry found that his new fingers had a genius in untying the knots- no matter how complicated they appeared at first.

Then, in each room where they had hung a plait, they undid the careful braiding- with Harry at one end and Theo at the other. They sang, on those ones, old songs that Harry couldn't translate but resonated through his bones. Their voices were thin, but harmonized.

They spent a long time in the Kitchen, sitting next to Euphie who smiled at each of them in turn as they unbraided plaits and untied knots and unraveled ropes around her for good health. By the times they left, she was in a veritable nest of old cords and ribbons.

Step by step, floor by floor, they circled deeper into the Keep until they reached the deepest floor and Theo unlocked a heavy iron door with a key. Inside, was a perfectly round room and at the center was a single, white slab of marble. Harry hesitated in the door way, almost able to feel the palpable magic in the room. Theo took a deep breath, as if tasting the air, then turned to Harry in delight.

"It's working," He whispered, "This is the corner stone- the source of all the Keep's power. Last year, when I tried this, none of the magic or rituals worked. Or at least not like this. But - well, you can feel it, can't you?" Harry nodded solemnly and they began the final stages of the Yule ritual.

. . . . . . .

Harry felt dawn arrive, just as Theo said he would. He stirred and stretched languidly, feeling exhausted but not at all weary. They had spent the final hours of Yule at the corner stone, unbraiding and undoing the final knots that Theo had spent the year creating. Finally, all their work complete, the twins had sat in companionable silence in the heart of their family's magic until the sun returned.

How would it have felt, Harry wondered as the two stumbled out of the room and locked the door behind them, to have more family with them? To have husbands and wives, sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles, and more children than could be counted? To fill the entire keep with noise and laughter? To strengthen the magic each year?

He followed Theo up the winding stairs until they reached the kitchen. There, the comforting sound of frying bacon and tuneless whistling of a house-elf, met their ears. Harry caught Theo as he began to sob. Soon, he began to cry as well. They held each other and shed tears of relief, of joy, of comfort, and release until an old house-elf found them and ushered them into the kitchen for breakfast.

. . . . . .

A/N: Thank you everyone for reading this. It has been a really fun to explore alternate forms of magic. Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

IX.

A young girl sat at her vanity later, brushing her hair, and realized with a start that it had been some time since she had last thought of herself as Harry Potter. Which was odd, to be sure. Ever since the Yule ritual, the memories of Harry Potter had, well, not faded, but seemed like they happened to someone else. She still remembered how he felt about Hogwarts and Gryffindor and all the other things of their lives. In some cases, she still agreed with him, in others- the ideas seemed so laughably different.

She lay down her brush and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was growing out rapidly, but Theo said that was to be expected, and Lady Malfoy had been teaching her the necessary spells and rituals to keep it in good health.

She had fallen into a comfortable schedule during her break. Theo and she would study, explore, or play in the morning. Most afternoons she was either invited to Malfoy Manor for tea and lessons with Lady Malfoy or summoned back to Hogwarts to report her doings to Professor Dumbledore and spend time with Ron and the other Weasleys.

Dorathea pulled the box of hairpins towards her with a sigh. She hoped Hermione would return to school soon. Things were becoming increasing awkward between her old friend and herself. It had started with the potion accident true, but she had never realized what a strong line Ron drew between boys and girls. Boy's were acceptable friends- people to joke around with, rough house, and have snowball fights. Girls were to be barely tolerated, if sisters, admired from afar, if Hermione, or ignored if anyone else. Ron hadn't known which spot to place Dorathea, especially under pressure from his brother's who didn't understand why he was hanging around with a 'bloody Nott,' and had valiantly tried to pretend that Dorathea was still Harry and nothing had changed. At least, until the Quidditch game. Dorathea shuddered at the memory.

Ron had invited her to a pickup Quidditch game with his brothers. She had hesitantly agreed, collected Harry's Nimbus 2000 and joined the red-heads on the snow-swept grounds. It was strange, she immediately realized, how she could remember quite clearly how to fly. She knew how to position her hands, how to sit on the broom, how to push off from the ground. But Harry was a natural-born flier- a true gift- and Dorathea quickly found out that she was not.

The Nimbus had shot away with the first tap of her foot on the ground and Dorathea hanging on for dear life as the broom careened this way and that around the court screaming bloody murder. One turn proved too sharp and Dorathea came crashing off- luckily landing in a snowbank- winded but unbroken.

That was the final straw for Ron's pretenses. He couldn't square the image of his athletically gifted best friend with the white-faced, shaking witch who landed headfirst into the snowbank. After that, Ron was polite but distant during their forced interactions and was content to leave Dorathea to her reading and the occasional game of chess.

"It's just that flying looks so free and wonderful," She told Theo later that night after she returned to the Keep. It was hard to remember the absolute joy Harry had felt on his broom when she had been so scared. Theo had valiantly offered to buy her a broom and teach her- or, better, ask Draco to teach her to fly, but she'd turned him down flatly. While she was Dorathea, she'd keep her feet on the ground.

There was the crux of the matter, Dorathea realized as she critically examined her face in the mirror, she was Dorathea. She hadn't always been Dorathea. She might not always be. But right now she was well and truly Dorathea Nott, not Harry Potter.

Dorathea smiled at her reflection.

. . . . . .

In the evenings, Theo and Dorathea enjoyed exploring the storerooms below the Keep. Some houses had attics full of old treasures and family keepsakes, but the Nott's had endless cellars and storerooms where generations of Nott's had kept everything and anything they had once owned. Thea learned quickly that the Nott's did not believe in storing anything but gold in Gringotts and did not believe in throwing anything away. It made for great hide and go seek games.

. . . . . . .

"What is it?" Dorothea paused before the enormous wooden contraption. She had never seen anything like it - either muggle or wizard. Whatever it was, it looked old. The wooden beams were stained dark with long years and repeated use- the metal brackets, though no longer shiny, were still bright and strong.

"It's a loom." Theo hung halfway in and out of the door. "Mama used to weave beautiful tapestries. She was working on that one before she died." He said it so matter-a-factly, that Dorothea's heart broke a little. She would have liked to have known Theo's mother. There were no portraits or tapestries anywhere in the Keep.

Seating herself on the small stool, Dorothea glanced through the forest of threads and saw a mirror. The tapestry was reflected on the far wall so that as she sat and wove, she could watch her progress and make sure it still looked alright. Dora lifted one of the strange wooden sticks covered with thread and runic markings.

"What are these?"

Theo shrugged helplessly. "I think they move the thread through the other strings? All I remember is that Mama would sit there and wave her wand and all the sticks would move on their own."

"Really?" Dorothea ran her hands over the wooden rods and felt the shape of the magic move through her. One, then two, then ten of the wooden bobbins rose and began dancing through the vertical strings like birds through the air. Dora laughed in delight as the colors shifted and built in the wall. She could almost see the design that Lady Nott- Mama- had been working on.

"This is brilliant!" She told Theo but dropped her wand at his astonished gaze. "What's wrong?"

"You're brilliant." He told her, shaking his head. "Magical weaving is a gift. You've picked it up without any training!"

Dora beamed and rose from the chair. "Hardly. I have no idea what I'm doing. It's all so complicated."

"I think we might have some beginner looms in the other storerooms," Theo offered her his arm and she took it with mock-grandeur, "Shall we go look, Lady-Sister Nott?"

. . . . . .

"How goes it?" Thea asked as she entered their favorite sitting room, struggling with the latch of a new necklace. Draco, of all people, had given it to her as a belated Christmas present. If Thea didn't have Harry's memories of what a prat Draco could be, she might almost have been charmed by the boy's gracious attentions whenever she spent time in Hogwarts. It was, after all, easier to spend time with Draco than Ron these days. If nothing else, they could chat about what Lady Malfoy was teaching her during their teas.

Dorathea adored Lady Malfoy. She had never seen a more beautiful or gracious woman. Plus, she knew so much! Before meeting Lady Malfoy, Thea hadn't known there could be classes on literally anything: the proper way to stand, to sit, to serve tea, to drink tea, to write a letter, to chose the right stationery, the correct color of ink and more. It was equally exhausting and exhilarating.

When she was Harry, the world had seemed so incomprehensible. He had known nothing about the Wizarding world and assumed there was nothing to learn but what was taught in class. But Dorothea was seeing that there was a reason, usually seeped in centuries of tradition, for the smallest detail. The entire world operated according to special laws that she could learn if she only focused enough. Narcissa declared her an ideal student and her growing reputation as a quick learner gave her an easy excuse for Harry's memories.

"Slowly," Theo sighed. He was sitting on the floor, piles of different colored ribbons around him and a thick, handwritten book on his lap. Another, smaller and slimmer volume was open on the floor in front of him filled with his own notes and ideas.

For the past three days, her brother had been trying to memorize a special charm that would change not just the color of the ribbon, but the material itself. A few days before he had been studying a charm that would distill a memory into a color. His notebook was filled with ideas to practice once he returned to Hogwarts. Dorathea thought sadly that if Lord Nott had been a little more accepting of his son, Theo would have made a very happy Ravenclaw rather than a very lonely Slytherin.

"You'll figure it out," Thea said confidently, taking a seat in her chair and pulling her practice loom towards her. They had no plans this afternoon- though Theo was supposed to be finishing his Christmas break homework. His textbooks sat in the corner and Thea had flipped through them to further the disguise that she was just bright, and didn't have Harry's Hogwarts history in her memories. To her surprise, she found the books more interesting than before. They were easier to read now and she found she could sit quietly for longer and focus in a way she hadn't when she was Harry.

"Are you going to finish your charm's homework?" She asked, but Theo just waved a dismissive hand without looking up from his book. Her brother was smart, but could rarely be bothered to apply much effort to classes that didn't interest him. Thea signed and pulled her practice loom onto her lap. The pattern was still quite simple: a geometric representation of a garden maze. Stripe work had come intuitively to her as she played with different widths and colors and she was eagerly practicing with more complicated representations.

But before she could even set the first bobbin, Euphie popped into the room. The house-elf had much improved since Thea first arrived- she could now stand on her own and do some light cleaning and cooking for them. But there was no denying that Euphie was old. Thea had planned to broach the subject of House-elves with Lady Malfoy during their next tea.

"Mistress Dorothea," The house-elf croaked, "There is a fire call for you. Apparently your friend, Miss Hermy is returned?"

. . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you for following this story! Your support leaves me with the biggest smile!

As a heads up: this is as far as my initial spurt of inspiration took me. Future chapters may arrive but on a much less frequent basis.

Re: Guest- thank you so much for your comments! I very much appreciate your thoughts. There is an addition in Draco's conversation in chapter 7 about how he found Harry!

Edit: 9/19- continuity suggestions thanks to guest (who would be an excellent beta reader should they ever desire!): changed Firebolt to Nimbus 2000, tweaked the Notts activities to be story cannon compliant.


	10. Chapter 10

X.

Hermione returned:

The brown, bushy-haired girl sat on the hospital bed, adrift in a sea of white, staring at her hands as though they were the only thing that anchored her to the world. She flexed her fingers, watching the play of tendons across bones, listening to the soft pop of her knuckles.

"Miss Granger?"

The girl glanced through the soft puff of her hair at where an old man sat beside her bed. He had been speaking to her for several minutes now, asking questions. He would pause and then the silence of the Hospital would drift between them again. The clink of potion bottles and scratch of a pen as Madame Pomphrey conducted inventory. The soft restless twist of the man as he leaned forward.

"Miss Granger, if you won't speak to me, would you like to see your friends?"

The girl gave one, sharp nod, and her hands clenched in her blankets.

. . . . . .

"What do you mean, I can't see her!" Dorothea cried in evident distress. Beside her, Ron was looking positively mutinous as he glared up at the Hospital. The older man sighed. Clearly, when he had sent Professor McGonagall to the Gryffindor Tower to collect Hermione's friend, he had intended only Ron to be summoned. But Dorothea, who had decided to lend Ron her Nimbus 2000 for the foreseeable future, had also been present and McGonagall hadn't bothered to edit her message.

"We simply do not want to over-excite Ms. Granger." Professor Dumbledore said simply, "Your appearance, Harry, might alarm her over-much."

Dorothea compressed her lips into a tight line and refrained, with difficulty, from correcting the older man. She was, at the moment, Dorothea Nott. Referring to him as Harry was nothing short of aggravating.

"I insist." She said simply. "Hermione is my friend. She won't mind whatever appearance I wear." Or so she hoped. The Headmaster gave her a calculating look and then relented.

. . . . . . .

"Well, you look alright," Ron said with evident relief as he took a seat with Dorathea next to the hospital bed. They had both arrived with gifts- Ron had brought some of his Christmas chocolate and Thea brought the book she had picked out for Hermione in Diagon Alley.

Personally, Thea didn't think Hermione looked alright. The girl had lost weight during her sojourn in the hospital and her face was pale. Her usual efficient and cheerful nature was nowhere to be found. Dorathea reached forward and took Hermione's hand.

"We've missed you," She said softly and meant it, "There have been a lot of changes since you've been gone-"

A fortnight ago- though it seemed so much longer- Harry had caught a glance of Hermione sprouting dark fur at the same time as his features shifted to those of Dorathea. Ron had helped Hermione to the hospital wing while Harry had waited in the bathroom, but the two friends hadn't seen each other face to face until now.

Dorathea hoped that they would still be friends. Harry hadn't had many during his short career at Hogwarts and Dorathea, now that Ron had become more acquaintance than a friend, had even fewer. None, if Theo counted as a brother instead of a friend.

Hermione didn't respond, except for a small sigh and Dorathea bit her lip.

"Tell me about it!" Ron said, as though there hadn't been the awkward pause. He scooted his chair closer and forced excitement into his voice, "You've been gone, Harry's a girl and acting all weird, and I'm pretty sure Malfoy isn't the heir of Slytherin after all!"

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Dorothea said, hiding a frown. She wasn't acting all weird. She just wasn't Harry. But she was too grateful for Ron's contribution to the conversation to be annoyed with him. Under her curious gaze, Ron settled back in his chair with a self-satisfied grin.

"Well, I was thinking about it and talking to Percy of all things." Ron must really have been starved for company if he was willingly seeking out his least favorite brother, Thea thought. Or he was bored of being pranked by the twins. "And he suggested we look up some genealogy charts in the library- so I did. Did you know that Zach Smith- the Hufflepuff - is actually related to Helga Hufflepuff? Ironic right? Anyways, Slytherin's line died out ages ago with some family called the Gaunts."

Dorathea reflected absently that ages ago could mean centuries or a few dozen years to Ron. Still, she gave him an approving glance.

"That was well reasoned, Ron," She said, watching Hermione out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't be certain, but Hermione seemed to be listening in to their conversation, "So Malfoy can't be the Slytherin's heir. Apparently, no one can. Yet, someone is claiming to be?"

Ron nodded eagerly, "Yep. And here is my theory. The Gaunt's didn't actually die out! They actually had a kid that they hid- from everyone. Maybe in the Muggle world." Dorothea flinched as the fostering motif came up again. How many children had been fostered among the Muggles anyways?

"Or," Dorathea said softly, "Someone knew the myth of Slytherin and is banking on our shared knowledge to confuse us. So anyone with access to a petrification spell and a Muggleborn prejudice could be a victim."

Ron visibly deflated and, despite the inherent logic of her own argument, Dorathea couldn't help but ask him who he thought the secret Gaunt heir might be.

"Tracy Davis!" Ron announced triumphantly and Dorathea was ashamed to admit that it took her a moment to put a face to the name. When the tall, sulking Slytherin appeared in her head, she laughed.

"Davis? Why!"

Ron crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, "She's the only Half-blood in Slytherin. It has to be her."

Dorathea doubted that Davis was the only Halfblood in all of Slytherin and doubted even more that she was the Heir of Slytherin, but she kept her doubts to her self and promised to ask Theo that evening.

. . . . . . .

"Hermione didn't say anything. Not the entire time that we were talking." Thea complained to her brother as they ate dinner in the kitchen. Euphie had taken over making dinners, not that Dorathea minded, but both Nott's refused to sit in one of the grand dining rooms. The cozy comfort of the kitchen was enough for them.

"Well, if it was the magical backlash from your appearance in Hogwarts, it's hard to know what the effects might be," Theo said, ripping off a piece of bread. Dorathea sighed. Most of the time her double life didn't interfere with her new life. But times like this, she wished she could just tell Theo everything. Instead, she had elaborated on the story of her sudden appearance in Hogwarts where Ron and Hermione were her first introduction to the Wizarding world. Theo mostly accepted her loyalty to them based on that, but she knew her concern over a girl she apparently met once confused him.

"True," She said slowly, drawing the word out as she leaned her crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on her arms. "But I still want to talk to her."

Theo looked uncomfortable, "Maybe it's for the best. Magic happens for a reason, after all." Thea gave her brother a curious glance at the harshness in his voice but didn't protest and soon their conversation drifted to the oncoming start of school.

. . . . . . .

A/N: This will be the last time I mention this: this story is entirely unplotted and rather fluffy. I am as astonished as you are that it is holding together as well as it is. That said, I am absolutely open to hearing suggestions for what you might like to see. If it sparks some inspiration, I will absolutely credit you. Thank you already to everyone who has pointed out inconsistencies in the story!

As always, your reviews, follows, and favs brighten my day!


	11. Chapter 11

X1.

"Oh, by the way. Do you think Tracy Davis is the Heir of Slytherin?" Dorathea asked as they picked themselves up off the floor of Snape's office. Earlier that day, they had received a missive from Hogwarts bidding both of them come to their school early in order to sort Dorathea into her new house.

Apparently, unless she wanted to spend the next several months in a special set of chambers all her own, Dorathea had to be sorted into a house for the castle to manifest her a bed, chest, and space. Since Snape had admitted to some difficulty in acquiring the necessary potion ingredients and Hermione had remained stubbornly uncommunicative, the polyjuice potion was still some months from being completed. Dorathea could hardly be expected to stay in Nott Keep by herself and miss out on her education.

Plus, Lady Malfoy had explained over their final lunch the previous day, it would be very suspicious if Dorathea wasn't publicly presented as healthy and sane after her miraculous appearance. There were certain sections of society, the elegant woman had promised her, that would not stand for any more interference. The promised threat in her voice gave Dorathea chills at the same time as it reassured her.

Theo stumbled over the edge of his robe as he tried to rise, "What?"

"Davis." Dorathea repeated, holding out her hand to help him to his feet, "Do you think she's the one petrifying Muggleborns?"

Theo was quiet for entirely too long, by her liking. Would she actually have to admit to Ron that his idea was correct? But when he finally answered, it was with a shake of his head.

"No, I don't think so," He said, "Not that she couldn't, mind you. I once saw her hex a group of Fifth Years for laughing about Bulstrode. But I don't think she dislikes Muggleborns. Purebloods, maybe. But not Muggleborns."

Dorathea sighed in relief but gave a quick shiver of nerves. Was Theo really safe with someone like that in Slytherin with him? But he didn't seem concerned, so she put it behind her. There was a more important issue to consider first.

. . . . . . . .

"Ravenclaw!"

Dorathea pulled the hat off her head hurriedly and handed it back to a bemused Professor McGonagall. They were gathered in the Headmaster's office, which was feeling very cramped with the extra people, but Dorathea was glad for them. Professor Snape looked entertained, Theo disappointed. Dorathea risked a glance to the Headmaster. He was staring at her with flat, unamused eyes.

"Well, I shall inform Professor Flitwick about his newest charge," Professor McGonagall announced, edging around the chair, "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Nott."

Dorathea slid off the chair and hurried over to where Theo was huddled behind Professor Snape. She took his hand and gave him an apologetic look. She knew that he had been hoping for Slytherin and it would have been nice to have all the same classes. Honestly, either Slytherin or Gryffindor would have been manageable. She already knew everyone in Gryffindor, even if they didn't know her and in Slytherin, she could at least have Draco's support. But Ravenclaw?

Theo must have sensed her distress because he gave her a small smile.

"We'll still have one-third of our classes together," He whispered. "And the Ravenclaws are decent. Weird, but decent. At least, you're not in Gryffindor." Dorothea nodded sadly. Why hadn't Harry paid more attention to the other students in the other houses? She could barely name all Ravenclaw's in their year, much less know what to expect.

"Or Hufflepuff," She added and the twins shared a smirk.

. . . . . . . . .

The last evening before Hogwarts found the small household of Nott Keep in an uproar. As Harry, Dorathea had never had to worry about packing for school. Either all of Harry's things were already in his trunk since the Dursley's hadn't let him unpack or he had so few things that it was easy to throw them in his trunk. But the trunk that had once seemed so spacious as Harry was no longer.

"It won't fit!" Dorathea wailed as she tried and failed to close the lid over her pile of new clothes and loom. Theo didn't look up from where he was hurriedly scribbling the last six inches of his Transfiguration essay.

"Have you tried-" He gestured with one hand to indicate that she try placing her loom vertically on the side rather than flat on top.

"I've tried it every way!" She cried, feeling on the edge of tears with frustration, "It's too tall on the side, too wide on top and if I place it at an angle- Oh Euphie- no!"

"You is not being cold!" The house-elf had reappeared with an armful of thick, woolen stockings that she then attempted to shove into the minuscule space around the loom. The trunk groaned warningly. Dorathea had been concerned when she saw the number of clothes in her closet, but Euphie had apparently gotten it into her head that neither of her charges would be dressed warmly enough or have enough to eat. All throughout the day she had been disappearing into the storerooms or kitchen and returning with armloads of old clothes or fresh baked goods that were apparently essential for their future survival.

"Euphie it won't fit!"

"Wait- why can't you transform anything into alcohol?" Theo asked, his voice tightening in alarm. He had camped out on Dora's bed, the hangings pulled back. A unicorn pawed anxiously behind him, as though picking up on the panic. "We didn't learn this- I'm positive we didn't learn this!"

"You did-" Thea promised, attempting to sit on her trunk to keep the house-elf from adding anything else, "The seventh chapter. The alcohol evaporates too quickly and if transfiguration becomes part of the air, it's impossible to undo."

Theo brightened. "Brilliant- wait, can you repeat that? Slowly?"

"Oh- just give me that-" Thea jumped from her trunk to the bed, almost upending Theo's inkwell, and pulled his essay onto her lap. One of the blessings of this new body was that she wasn't expected to complete Harry's homework. "If you figure out how to close my trunk, I'll finish your essay."

"And the astronomy star charts?" Theo asked hopefully. Dorathea looked at him in astonishment.

"I thought you finished those!"

"I got distracted?" Theo had the grace to look slightly embarrassed under Dorathea's unbelieving expression. Was this how Hermione felt every time she tried to corral Harry and Ron into doing their homework? The thought raised a small pang of regret and worry. Hermione had barely recovered since her return to Hogwarts. She'd basically returned to the Gryffindor dorms and locked herself in her room. Maybe it would be better once they resumed classes?

"Fine. I'll finish your essay, your start charts, and look over your potion's report if you fix my clothes."

Theo abandoned the bed and his homework before she even finished her sentence. Ten minutes later, Thea wrote a neat conclusion to Theo's essay and her enormous pile of clothing was slowly being reduced into neat piles. Theo glanced up and read the unasked question in her eyes.

"You don't just shove clothes into a trunk," He explained. " You have to fold them and every cloth has a different way it likes to be folded so it doesn't take much space. See?" He took one of her new sweaters and with a few deft movements, it was a compact lump.

"Then, on bulkier items, you can do this," He pulled a piece of thread from his pocket and wrapped it around the sweater. Weaving the ends around each other, Theo muttered something under his breath and the sweater seemed to deflate upon itself until it was little wider than a folded shirt. Dora let out a low whistle of approval and Theo grinned at her. "I came up with that one by myself. No wand needed!"

Thea absently finished her brother's homework as he paced around the room, explaining the theory behind the space-saving knot. He might not be the best at finishing his homework, but transfiguration clearly wasn't his passion.

"And the loom?" She asked when he finished.

"Oh- just carry it in. No one will question you if you say it's for family magic." The pillow that Thea threw at him in exasperation caught him full in the face.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed, faved, and especially reviewed. The notification emails just make me smile.


	12. Chapter 12

XII.

Dorothea remembered how Harry had felt last year after the Christmas holidays. It had been startling to have so many students filling the halls which had once been so empty. Harry and Ron had enjoyed the peace of the Gryffindor common room- being able to sit close to the fire and roast whatever treats they wanted. It had been good to see Hermione return- bright-eyed after two weeks on her own- but Harry had also been sad.

Now, there wasn't even the anticipation of seeing familiar faces, as she and Theo stepped through the floo at the end of Christmas break. House-elves immediately appeared to whisk their trunks away and one reached for Dorothea's loom.

"Oh - no, please," Dorothea said and held it closer to her chest. "I'll just carry it." She and Theo were about to be headed to their separate tables and being able to hold onto one piece of magic from Nott Keep was comforting in a way she hadn't understood.

"Here," Theo whispered and held up the braid he had been working on before their fireplace had turned green, "To keep you healthy-"

Dorathea bit back a sarcastic remark- born of nerves rather than exasperation- and held out her left arm. Several braids already were wound around her thin wrist, but Theo found an empty space and tied the knot tightly.

"I'm going to be fine," She reassured him and remind herself. "It's just Hogwarts. And I'll see you all the time."

"I know- I know-" Theo had automatically fished another ribbon out of his pocket and his fingers worked through the complicated knotting on their own. It was his way of coping with stress, Thea realized, and she felt a little bit better about the plaits around her arms.

"It's going to be ok." She said and then bit her lip as she saw the Headmaster turn the corner.

. . . . . . .

"I take it that you have not had access to a Daily Prophet, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore said not unkindly as Dorathea took a seat across from him in his office. She shook her head, both to refuse his pro-offered lemon drops and answer his question. Theo received basically no owls or letters from anyone- much less a daily missive from the Prophet. As for Hogwarts, Harry had always assumed that if he needed to know something important in the world, someone, usually Hermione, would tell him. Dorathea assumed the same.

Granted, Lady Malfoy was an avid reader of not only the Daily Prophet but several other publications from across Magical Europe and there were times that she had seemed particularly smug about a certain article, but Dorathea had never thought to press further.

"Are they saying something about me, sir?" She asked.

"You, well Dorathea Nott at least, is quite the celebrity." Professor Dumbledore said with his familiar twinkle. "A young, pureblood woman raised in the muggle world, but called back to the Wizarding by magic alone- it was an inspiring story, Harry. The Press has been devouring the possibilities. No doubt helped along by your friends the Malfoy's."

Dorothea didn't say anything but colored slightly. Was she never going to enjoy the blissful anonymity other students had? Harry had been a celebrity due to circumstances out of his control and now, because of a hastily constructed story, so was Dorathea. She tucked and untucked the toes of her shoes from under the rungs of the chair.

"Of course, people immediately began wondering which other children might have been whisked away to the Muggle world," Professor Dumbledore was saying. "It's a sad fact of history, but both sides of the last war had motive and cause to deprive the other of their heirs. And truly, it is kinder to exile a child than kill it."

Dorathea flinched at the bright tone. Did Dumbledore really think growing up with the Dursley's was better than, well, death? What about children who were sent to Muggle families that didn't have a blood relation? Before she could protest, Dumbledore continued.

"I must say- this was a wonderful opportunity to further the cause of Muggleborns - how many of them, after all, are actually secret children of friends and neighbors in disguise? Perhaps if we can stop othering the children-" Professor Dumbledore broke off his conversation and glanced over to Dorathea. His thoughtful look vanished, to be replaced with the twinkly face of the kindly old grandfather.

"Forgive me, Harry. My ramblings escaped me." The headmaster leaned forward to fold his hands on his cluttered desk, "Now, many people will want to know about your supposed past. Divert the conversation when you can. Maintain the fiction of partial amnesia whenever people press for more detail. If your classmates continue to ask, as they may very well do in Ravenclaw, you may mention your time with your imaginary muggle family, But Harry-"

Here the Headmaster's bright blue eyes became sharp and direct. Dorathea fought the urge to squirm or look away.

"Harry, no more of this ridiculous story of abuse at the hands of the Muggles. They were kind, decent, hardworking people- who took you in and treated you as one of their own. If I hear another word about being forced to cook meals or sleep in a cupboard, I will be very disappointed. Understood?"

Dorathea, who had opened her mouth to protest, slowly shook her head. A thin line of anger ran up her spine and she twisted one of the chords around her wrist viciously. She hadn't made those things up. They had happened to Harry! Of everything she had told the Malfoy's they were the only ones that were true. But the Headmaster's expression booked no disagreement, so she clamped her mouth closed and said nothing.

"Also, I will be making an announcement at the feast, but if anyone asks Harry Potter is attending a special class abroad for the next few months."

. . . . . . . .

"Are you alright?"

Rather than have returned to the returning feast with the rest of the students, Theo had apparently set up camp outside the Headmaster's office. When the gargoyle stepped aside and Dorathea entered the hall, her brother scrambled to his feet.

"Yes- it's-" Dorathea broke off the beginning of her rant as Theo's eyes skated to the left. There, Professor Flitwick beamed up at her happily and Dorathea found that, once again, she had to close her mouth and swallow what she had been about to say.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nott," the Charms professor said, "And an even greater pleasure to welcome you to Ravenclaw."

"The pleasure is all mine," Dorathea said flatly, sending a despairing look at Theo. Her brother shrugged a shoulder helplessly.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to escort you to Ravenclaw tower and show you your room. Right this way, Miss Nott!"

"But-" Dorathea started to protest. She didn't know what she was going to tell Theo about her conversation with the headmaster. After all, Theo didn't know Dorathea's real past or why Dumbledore's offhand comments were so infuriating. Actually, he didn't know the real reason why Dumbledore was meeting with her. Dumbledore, upon seeing them in front of the fireplace, had simply made some vague noises about welcoming their newest student officially.

Dorathea sighed. At Nott Keep, it had been easy to forget that she was, or had been, Harry Potter. At Hogwarts, without Theo, no one had raised any questions. But with Theo in school with her? Dorathea bit her lip and held her loom close to her chest.

What was she going to do now? What was Harry?

. . . . .

A/N: and the story rambles on. Your follows, favs, and reviews always make my day! Thank you so much!


	13. Chapter 13

XIII.

Professor Flitwick was surprisingly good company as he walked her up to the Ravenclaw tower. Seemingly taking her depression as shyness, he attempted to bring her up to speed on the history of Hogwarts, notable Ravenclaws, and the values of her new house. As the pair approached Dorathea's new home and she began to notice parts of the castle she had never seen before, her mood brightened. Exploring Nott Keep had been terribly exciting, but Harry hadn't deviated far from his normal beeline between classes, dorms, and the Great Hall - unless he was up to some mischief. Dorathea was surprised to realize that she had never once ventured into this wing of the castle, had never once been curious of the other common rooms- with the exception of Slytherin which again was only to cause some mischief.

Dorathea frowned. Harry had gotten into rather a lot of trouble for his efforts- from almost dueling Malfoy to rescuing Hermione to single-handedly taking on the Philosopher's stone. Dorathea remembered the preceding events for each of these clearly, but didn't, for the life of her, understand how her old self had made the leap from hearing that there was a troll in the girl's bathroom to rescuing a fellow Gryffindor. Not that she wasn't glad she had since Hermione was a dear friend, but surely a professor would have been better able to handle the situation.

"And here is the entrance to the common room!" The professor said and his cry broke Dorathea from her reverie. Before them was a rather nondescript wooden door. There was no handle nor keyhole present- nor any friendly portrait to greet. Instead, a large bronze eagle hung in the middle of the door. Dorathea glanced uncertainly down at the professor who nodded to the knocker encouragingly. So, she was supposed to knock? Was there a secret rhythm she had to figure out?

Dorothea reached for the bronze eagle and squeaked as it turned sharp eyes on her. Without removing the ring from its mouth, the eagle said quite clearly:

_The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?_

Dorathea hesitated, frowning. She had never heard of this riddle before and she'd never been good at them before. The more you take- what was it she took? Breaths? Glances? But she didn't leave any behind-

Dorathea brightened as the answer came to her in a burst, "Footsteps!"

"Well done Miss Nott!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, "I can see that the hat sorted you well after all! Come, see your new home!"

. . . . . . . .

The Ravenclaw's girls dorm was much the same as the Gryffindor's boys, much to Dorathea's disappointment. Yes, the bed hanging colors were different and there were six beds tucked against the wall rather than five, but they were the same four posters, same trunks, same small side tables. Granted, the room was much cleaner than her dorm had ever been- but whether that was because girls were neater or because they had all packed up their things to go home, Dorathea didn't know. She clutched her loom to her chest tighter. If only she could have brought one of the unicorn tapestries from Nott Keep.

"The House Elves tell me that this one is yours," The Professor was saying, pointing out the bed on the far right hand corner. Though, of course, if you would like to trade with one of the other girls, you may! If you'd like to set your loom down here, I will show you your desk in the second year study room."

"Study room?" Dorathea said, unwilling to part with her loom just yet.

"Of course!" Professor Flitwick smiled, "We find that some students find either the common room or the library to be too distracting. Thus every year has their own study room- come! Follow me!"

Dorathea did as she was bidden and soon found herself in a cozy round room not unlike the room above. But unlike the dorm, there were small cubical desks rather than beds. Small bookshelves had been built into the side of each desk and these were filled with a variety of texts and papers.

"Personal texts," Professor Flitwick explained, "Or library loans. Some of our students find it easier to keep all their study materials in one place. Now, Miss Nott, given your unusual upbringing you'll forgive me asking I am sure, but I am assuming that you do, actually, know how to study, correct?"

Before Dorathea could open her mouth to protest that yes, of course, she knew how the study- Hermione had badgered her enough times after all - the cacophony of young voices echoed up the stairs in one indistingushable wave. Dorathea shrank back, but Professor Flitwick brightened.

"Ah, it appears that it is time to meet your classmates. Now, Miss Nott, you must forgive their youthful enthusiasm. Just remember that everyone means well." Then in an entirely uncomforting after thought, added, "Mostly."

. . . . . . . .

By the time Dorathea had been able to escape the common room and retreat back to her own bed chambers, she had learned many interesting things about Ravenclaw.

First, her impression of them as bookish, quiet nerds had been wrong. Dead wrong.

So had her idea that Gryffindor was the rambunctious house. Yes, the lions were lively- especially when Fred and George were trying out a new prank item. But even in the most boisturous of post-quidditch parties, the Gryffindors were just jovial.

The Ravenclaws liked to argue.

A lot.

It was apparently a sacrosanct law that if two people were having a conversation (read argument) in the common room anyone (read every one) was allowed to interject with their own comments and opinions. Ideally, you'd be having at least two conversations at the same time- keeping an ear on each. The more ridiculous the comments or opinions were the better.

This was why Dorathea's appearance had unleashed the most ridiculous series of theories and ideas she had ever heard: she was really a muggle. She was really Theo Nott in disguise. She was a spy from Beauxbatons - why? The International Pegasus Racing Conspiracy. She was a spy from Durmstrang to assess the battle-readiness of the British schools. She was from the moon. She was really just an elaborate mass hallucination. Someone had successfully raised her from the dead.

Dorathea had lost track of theories- each more ridiculous than the last.

If the swirl of conversation wasn't bad enough, there was also another sacred Ravenclaw tradition: the annual post-yule spell symposium (read: who had learned the best spell over the holidays). Dozens of children who had apparently not had the chance to practice any spell work over the holidays, but plenty of time to read ahead in their text books, meant dozens of children who were desperate to out preform each other from the most clever, difficult, or unusual spell.

Magically conjured birds flew over their heads. The tapestries shifted colors and shapes under their feet. Chairs raced about the room as students competed on locomotion spells.

After a stray spell had vanished the left sleeve of her sweater, Dorathea dodged under two arguing upperclass men and retreated back to the relative safety of her bedroom- loom clutched tightly to her chest like a life line.

What had she gotten herself into?

"So, you're the new Ravenclaw?" A harsh voice asked. Dorathea spun around- wand instinctively in her hand as she wondered what she'd have to fend off now.

. . . . . . .

A/N: I am so excited to work wiht the Ravenclaws again! I haven't touched them since 'Lisa Turpin Goes to Hogwarts.' Do you have a prefence for which Ravenclaw she meets first?

As always, your follows, favs and reviews make me happy


	14. Chapter 14

XIV.

A plain girl with straight brown hair leaned against the edge of the doorway, studying her intently. Dorathea shifted uncomfortably under the hard gaze and, though her most recent training told her it was the height of impoliteness to continue to hold out her wand, she didn't want to drop her arm. Just yet.

"You look like Theo." The girl said. "Theo didn't say anything about having a sister."

"He didn't," Dorathea said, then added quickly. "Know. I mean. He didn't know. I didn't know about him until this Christmas-"

"Yule." The girl corrected, a faint smirk crossing her thin lips.

"Yule," Dorathea allowed grudgingly, "I appeared in Hogwarts- drawn by the magic of the castle." She elaborated on the story she and Theo had created, but under the girl's pointed stare she felt as though every hole in their story was growing larger and larger.

"You grew up with Muggles." The girl said and, at Dorathea's flinch, added, "Only Muggleborn's call it Christmas rather than Yule. Did you like them?"

"What?" Dorathea squeaked.

"The Muggles. Did you like them?"

Dorathea opened her mouth, but the words escaped her. Dumbledore expected her to lie- to say that she enjoyed the Dursley's, that they had treated Harry like one of their own. But they hadn't. She hated them! Dorathea realized in astonishment, tears prickling at the edges of her vision. She hated the Dursley's and never, ever wanted to return to them. Why hadn't she ever realized that before?

"Well, at least you have a reason for why you never fit in." The girl said, having read the answer on Dorathea's face, "How bloody convenient for you. And a Nott too." She sucked her teeth, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

"What do you mean?" Dorothea's voice had gone cold.

"Oh, you know." The girl pushed herself off the doorway and sauntered over to the opposite side of the room, "The Great and Ancient House of Nott. Pureblood. Wealthy. Not much competition by way of adjacent family."

"What do you mean." Dorathea repeated angrily, " Are you saying that I am somehow impersonating a Nott? That I chose Theo because- because I want to take his inheritance? Or want an easy life?"

The strange, infuriating girl only raised her eyebrows expressively but didn't comment. Despite the fact that Dorathea was basically impersonating a Nott and had no real claim to the family outside of a botched polyjucie potion, Dorathea felt a white-hot rage growing in her chest.

"I am a Nott." She cried, "I have the mark and everything!"

The girl's expression went from aggravating to fascinated in an instant. "The mark. What do you mean?"

"The family mark! Every pureblood has one- it marks you as a true member of the family!"

"Really?" The girl grinned, showing teeth as sharp as a fox's, "Can I see?"

"Absolutely not!" Dorathea snapped, clasping a hand over her elbow, "Who are you even?"

"Lisa. Lisa Turpin."

"Turpin? I've never heard of a Turpin before." Dorathea said doing her absolute best to impersonate Lady Malfoy's haughty tones. The girl's fascination disappeared as quickly as it came. She threw herself on the far bed and draped an arm over her eyes.

"Lovely. You're going to get along famously with Broccoli-Worst. I'll spoil her fun though: I am terribly poor, a dirty bastard, and am incorrigibly Dark." The last was said with a sharp smile directed towards the canopy of her bed. Dorathea hesitated, the anger burning out as fast as it had come. She remembered what it had been like to be terribly poor with the Dursley's and not knowing who Harry's parents were. Slowly, she lowered her wand and sat down on the edge of her new bed.

"What do you mean dark?"

The girl rolled over to look at her with an amused expression. "What do you mean what do I mean? Silly question for one Dark witch to ask another."

"I'm not Dark!" Dorathea cried.

"You're a Nott, aren't you?" Lisa said calmly. "Everyone knows the Nott's are dark. Theo taught me my first dark spell. And his father was one of Voldemort's key supporters."

Dorathea blanched- feeling the color drain out of her face. She knew that Voldemort had supporters in Slytherin. Knew that Malfoy's father and probably some of the horrible other ones had been in his thrall. But Theo? Theo couldn't be dark!

Lisa once again read the emotions crossing Dorathea's face easily and laughed. "Are you absolutely sure you're a Nott?"

"You," Dorathea said with frigid dignity, all pity for the girl vanishing, "Are a very mean person."

Lisa just laughed.

. . . . . . . .

The introduction of the other girl's in the dorm was much less uneventful.

Morag MacDougal arrived next. The tall, dark-haired girl with too many freckles gave Dorathea a cautious nod, ignored Lisa, and retreated to the bathroom with a plush blue towel.

Padma Patil appeared next, followed by a frizzy-haired blond who was talking at her excitedly about her Christmas break. As soon as the Indian girl set eyes on Dorathea, her entire face lit up and she hurried over.

"You must be Dorathea Nott," she said, "Everyone has been talking about you."

Dorathea was hardly going to mention that the incessant topic of conversation was the reason she had left the common room, so she only gave a polite nod and a smile. "I hope it's been interesting."

"Fascinating!" Padma agreed, "Half of the people think that you are part of a grand conspiracy, half the people think you are a fated savior of the wizarding world-"

"Except she's not, because Harry Potter already is the savior." The blond-haired girl interrupted crossly. "He's the Boy Who Lived. That's why he's going for special training. I wish I was going for special training. Father tried, of course, but it was top secret. It would be wonderful if Harry and I could have trained together…." The girl trailed off dreamily as Dorathea blanched.

Harry had attended a year and a half of classes with this girl who clearly had been harboring a crush for at least as long if not longer, and she didn't even know the girl's name!

Padma must have caught some of Dorathea's confusion because she elbowed the blond girl in the ribs and hissed at her to introduce herself. The girl blinked, then blushed.

"Ah, I'm Mandy Brocklehurst-"

Ah, this must be Broccoli-worst. Despite herself, Dorathea caught Lisa's eye. The aggravating girl was laying on her bed, watching the whole exchange with the same, condescending smirk she had used on Dorathea. Dorathea looked away quickly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Dorathea said more charitably than she normally would, "I do hope we can all be good friends."

Padma and Mandy looked pleased with the pronouncement and echoed the sentiment. Dorathea glanced at the four girls in the room and then at the six beds.

"Is there another classmate?" She asked. "I believe Morag already went to the showers."

"Su Li," Padma answered with a small sniff that was mirrored by Mandy, "She's still downstairs. Gambling."

"Oh?" Dorathea looked startled. True, some of the older Gyrffindors had placed bets on the outcomes of an exploding snap or other games- Ron had once won four knuts off a fourth year in a chess game- but there had never been any actual gambling. Dorathea could still hear Aunt Petunia's opinions of the act: immoral, degenerate, addicts wasting their time and their children dinner money on false highs.

"Has that started? Finally," Lisa rolled off the bed and headed towards the door.

"We have class tomorrow," Mandy called out, "Don't come back super late and disrupt everyone again. Or-"

"Or what?" Lisa whirled on her heel and leaned forward eagerly, "Or what are you going to do Brockle-worst? Try and touch my bed again and we'll really see who studied the better spells over break."

Mandy apparently became very interested in unpacking her trunk as Padma only sighed and shook her head. With no one to catch her interest, Lisa eventually sauntered back towards the door and disappeared down the stairs.

"Is she-" Dorathea stared to ask.

"Yes." Padma and Mandy answered simultaneously.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Ah, Ravenclaws. I love them all. But especially Lisa.


	15. Chapter 15

XV.

Dorathea slept poorly that night, which surprised her. Hogwarts had always been a refuge after the Dursleys. It had been the first place that Harry felt truly safe, his first real home. Now, as Dorathea laid stretched out under crisp, anonymous sheets, listening to the shuffles and murmurs of girls and not her twin, in the dark unilluminated by her unicorn tapestries, she wondered if Harry had been feeling the magic of Hogwarts.

He had never been to the Potter home, had never known the comfort of family magic, so of course the feel of any magic would be amazing. But being in Hogwarts after two weeks at Nott Keep?

Dorathea sighed and shifted in her bed, glancing through the crack in her hangings as her restless mind kept whirling. Hogwarts magic was nothing like Nott magic. It was grand, absolutely. She could feel the magic in every stone, every grain of wood in every piece of furniture. It hummed in the background- immense and impersonal. But not hers. Not Nott magic which felt familiar and safe and personal in a way magic had never before.

And this was the magic that Lisa said was dark?

The night passed slowly and painfully. Dorathea was awake when Padma and Mandy settled in for bed and turned off their lights. She was awake when Morag finally left the bathroom and slipped into her own bed, only to have glow of a Lumos shine through the cracks of the tapestry.

It was late when what must have been Su Li slipped into the room, but Dorathea didn't see much of her beside a round figure in the dark who collapsed on her bed quietly. If Lisa returned after that, Dorathea didn't hear.

. . . . . . . .

"Should we wake her up?"

Dorathea blinked awake to the half-whispers outside her bed. The slice of light that cut through her curtains was a bright, morning light- nothing like the soft glow of candles. Dorathea scrambled to her knees- alarm building in her throat.

At Nott Keep, there had been no need to keep track of the time. The sun barely penetrated into the thick-walled Keep and clocks were few and far between - relegated to the grand rooms. Dorathea had grown used to the comfortable feeling of waking up only when she and Theo felt like it- never to an alarm clock.

Now though- Dorathea thrashed around, looking for a watch, before remembering that Dorathea didn't have one and Harry's old watch- a hand me down from Uncle Vernon- was still in the Gryffindor dorm. Sheepishly, she pushed aside the blue, velvet hanging and blinked out at where Padma and Mandy were standing- fully dressed, buffed and ready for the day.

"Good morning- what time is it?"

"Almost breakfast," Mandy said, "And about an hour before classes start." She looked nervous to be off as if she was worried that the food might all be gone by the time they arrived.

"We weren't sure if we should let you sleep," Padma said kindly, "I'm not sure how Muggles do it, but at Hogwarts, the House Elves don't bring you breakfast in bed."

"Muggles don't have house-elves," Maddy reminded her friend and Padma frowned- wrinkling her nose.

"Ah. Then. Mech-ines? Muggles have Mechines, right?"

Machines, Dorothea realized. Padma apparently thought that Muggles had robots bring them their breakfasts in bed. The image of a sleek, silver android bringing a covered tray into Dudley's dirty room almost caused her to giggle.

"Not quite, but thank you. I'll be down in a moment."

"We'll wait!" The girls promised and Dorathea gave them a grateful smile before hurrying to the bathroom.

. . . . . . .

"Alright." Dorathea gave her reflection one last, critical glance in the mirror and then nodded to herself. Her hair was carefully done up in the style that Lady Malfoy had taught her over the holiday- held in place with spells, bobby pins, and one of Theo's ribbons braided around her head. Her uniform was neatly tucked into her skirt. Her socks were pulled up around her knees. Her blue and bronze tie was tied in a complicated knot that she knew would make Theo smile when he saw it. All in all, she had taken more time and effort with her appearance this morning than Harry had ever done in an entire month.

She may be in a new house, the entire school might be gossiping about her, her new family might be a Dark one and working for her alter-self's sworn enemy, but at least she looked good! That was some comfort at least. Dorathea gave her reflection and cheerful smile and stepped out of the bathroom.

Last night she had been too overwhelmed to meet most of the Ravenclaw house, but today was a new day. If nothing else, she was going to go out and put to rest some of the rumors that the Notts were a Dark family or that she was a time traveler from the future- or whatever other ridiculous rumors were going around.

"Oh my go…."

Dorathea almost missed the half-whispered breath of astonishment as she exited the bathroom. But even though Padma had managed to pull her face into a neutral expression, Mandy didn't have the same skill of camouflage. The blond girl's expression shifted between confusion, shock and - incongruously- glee as she stared at Dorathea.

"Is everything alright?" Dorathea asked, running a nervous hand over her skirt to make sure she hadn't somehow forgotten an essential garment in the bathroom.

"Yes- yes-" Mandy said brightly, "It's just. Um. That's such an unusual hairstyle. Is it Muggle?"

"No- It's- Lady Malfoy taught me. . . " Dorathea's hands flew to her hairstyle, "Did I do it wrong?"

Padma's expression had smoothed into one of understanding, "Of course. It must be the traditional style of the Ancient and Noble houses."

Dorathea suddenly realized that both girls had their hair pulled back in neat, but rather plain styles- nothing like the elaborate braids she had made. Also, both their uniforms, while neater than the Gryffindors, had a certain casualness that her knife-edged pleats of her skirt, her intricate knot and tight-laced shirt lacked. Her confidence in the new day fled. Tears threatened the corner of her eyes.

"I can go take it down."

"There's no time!" Mandy protested, reaching out to grab her arm. "You took ages in the bathroom and now we only have 40 minutes to eat before we have to go to class!"

"But-" Dorathea tried to protest, but the other two girls were already herding her out of their dorm room and down to the hallways towards the Great Hall. Dorathea ducked her head - convinced that everyone was looking at her and giggling.

Why had Harry never paid attention to what the other girls wore at school? Hermione had never done anything special with her hair- had actually complained a few times about being unable to do anything with her curls. Dorathea had assumed that doing something with her hair was better than not - but apparently, she'd been wrong.

"Does it really look that bad?" She asked Padma meekly as she caught sight of her reflection in a trophy box. The tall girl hesitated, clearly trying to weigh her words carefully. Mandy had no such hesitation.

"It looks like you stepped out of a history book," She giggled and then huffed as Padma elbowed her with a glare, "A relatively recent history book."

That didn't help Dorathea's confidence in the least. She wished she was back at Nott Keep or, for the first time in two weeks, that she was Harry one more. No one cared whether the Boy Who Lived had messy hair. Or, Dorothea amended quietly, no one was brave enough to bring it up.

They rounded the corner and Dorathea spied practically the only person she wanted to see at the moment. Theo stood near the door to the Great Hall peering around worriedly, his pinched face looked broke into a run, "Theo!"

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, follows, and favs! They keep me inspired to keep writing.


	16. Chapter 16

XVI.

"Theo!"

It had only been one evening. Dorathea understood that on a logical level, really she did, but her heart still lifted at the sight of the familiar face. She tore herself from shadows of Padma and Mandy to fly down the stairs towards the Slytherin.

To his credit, Theo seemed just as pleased to see her. His pale face brightening as she threw herself into his arms and they both spun around.

"Are you ok?" Theo asked - stepping back and peering into her face as though he could divine the past twenty-four hours from her expression alone. Dorathea peered back just as intently. Last night, she had spent several of her sleepless hours trying to remember the Theo Harry had seen in Hogwarts. There wasn't much to remember. Theo had been a Slytherin and therefore below Harry's attention. All she had was a few memories of a thin face, a dark head of hair bent over an essay, and a tight, contemptuous expression when Draco was talking. There had been no friends, no laughter, no sign that Hogwarts was a refuge from a lonely home.

If any of the other Slytherins were trying to bully him, they had another thing coming….

"I'm fine," She told him, "The Ravenclaw House party was loud, so I went to bed early and then overslept."

The concerned look faded a touch as Theo nodded and then took her hand, "I'll teach you the alarm spell so you aren't late again. But come on- we don't want to miss breakfast."

"Well, I guess we'll see you in class." Mandy scoffed and Dorathea looked over her shoulder to see the two Ravenclaws standing awkwardly to the side.

"Yeah- Ok!" Dorathea waved over her shoulder and ignored the disapproving crease to Padma's brow as Theo led her inside the Great Hall. Yes, Padma and Mandy were the nicest Ravenclaw's she'd met so far, but they weren't family!

"Theo," She pulled on his sleeve until he looked over at her, "Does…. Does my hair look weird?"

Theo gave it a brief glance. "No. It looks good. Are you wearing the ribbon I gave you?"

"Yep!" Dorathea lifted her free hand to finger the silky end of the ribbon. It had been carefully embroidered with runes of focus and concentration in a slightly lighter shade of blue. She thought it would be appropriate for her first day of classes. She had thought….

"Theo?" She asked again, "Do you know anything about modern girl's hairstyles?"

The boy glanced up at the overcast sky seriously then shook his head, "Ha… no. Not really. Why? Did someone say something?" His grip became almost painful around her hand, so she quickly shook her head.

"No, just… I want to fit in." She admitted and was surprised by her own admission. Harry had never wanted to fit in. Not with the Dursley's who represented all that was wrong and uncaring, not with his muggle classmates who were too afraid of Dudley to notice him. By the time he came to Hogwarts, he hadn't expected to fit in. He hadn't even tried. His first friend was almost the first person he ever spoke to. His second friend was another social outcast. But he had been so grateful to have them.

Dorathea shook her head sharply to rid herself of the depressing thought. Ron and Hermione had been good friends. Were good friends. But, maybe, when she went back to being Harry, she'd try to make other friends too.

Theo led her past the table in blue towards the one with the long green runner. Dorathea slowed as she caught sight of two girls dressed in immaculate green robes sitting at the table over cups of tea and talking animatedly. Well, one was talking animatedly. The other dark-haired one was glancing idly around the room, but froze when she caught sight of Dorathea. Her eyes traveled over Dorathea's robe, up to her hair, down to her face, and then narrowed in potent fury. Dorathea suddenly remembered her: Pansy Parkinson, Draco's girlfriend.

She ducked her head to hid behind Theo and was very glad when her brother led her two spots a little ways away from girls. He didn't seem to notice them. Didn't notice as Pansy elbowed her friend and nodded to Dorathea meaningfully. Dorathea quietly took her own plate and filled it with a scoop from the first bowl in front of her, watching the two girls out of the corner of her eye as the conversed in fierce whispers. She jumped with Theo waved a hand in front of her face.

"What? Sorry- were you saying something?" She asked, glancing at him guiltily.

"I said, returning to Hogwarts was a little disappointing. The food isn't nearly as good as what Euphie can make - or you really. Are you ok?" He asked as her eyes returned to the whispering girls. They were talking about her. She was sure of it. Her cheeks burned and she dropped her eyes to her plate.

"Yeah, just-" She glanced down the table and he followed her gaze to where one of the girls had risen with a smile and started down towards them.

"Oh, Merlin." He sighed, as the girl plunked herself down across from them with a wide smile. She was almost pretty- with large brown curls and a nose that could be considered button-like by a well-inclined person. She leaned forward and wove her fingers together, resting her chin on her hands neatly as she fluttered her eyelashes at Theo.

"Theo, darling, lovely- I know it is early and I know you haven't had your tea or whatever and I know it's been such a busy chore coming back here. And honestly, I'm not even mad. So don't even worry your head. Of course, we are going to forgive you."

Theo looked up and gave the witch a dark look, "Forgive me for what, Daphne."

"For not introducing me to your long lost sister," The girl glanced over at Dorathea who felt her cheeks heat even more. The girl, Daphne, had managed to choose the perfect blend of offense, incredulity, and good humor to make the comment sting. Dorathea remembered Lady Malfoy's brief overview of etiquette. According to very old, very pureblood rules, you couldn't introduce yourself to strangers but had to ask an acquaintance or friend of a friend to do so. Only peers on the same level of society could have afforded to propriety by asking to be introduced. Either Daphne was ignorant of that rule, in which case she would have just introduced herself like Padma and Mandy did or….

Theo sighed as if he would much rather be doing anything else in the world, but straightened and put on a serious expression. He turned to Dorathea and gave her an apologetic look. "Dorathea, may I introduce you to Lady Daphne of the Ancient and Nobel House Greengrass?"

Ah. That was it. Dorathea bobbed a small nod of acknowledgment towards where the smaller girl was watching her with avid interest. Greengrasses were on the same peerage level as the Notts, even slightly higher if you believed some authors. Further down the table, Pansy watched the proceedings like a hawk. The Parkinsons were merely pureblooded and only recently awarded a Noble House but they were hardly Ancient. If Pansy cared about the old etiquette rules at all, she had to wait until someone introduced her to Dorathea.

Theo then turned to his classmate. "Daphne, may I introduce you to my sister, Lady Dorathea of the Ancient and Noble House Nott?"

"Just Nott?" Daphne asked, tilting her head and putting one thin finger to her cheek as though she were genuinely curious. "Nothing else?" Dorathea felt a stab of fear run through her at the seemingly innocent question. There was no way that Professor Snape or Dumbledore had let the word of the Polyjuice potion accident slip into the public?

"Yes," Theo answered sharply, "Just Nott. The Muggles have no claim to her. She doesn't even remember them for Nimune's sake." Daphne's eyebrows shot upward at the swear, but she only tilted her head to the other side. Dorathea found herself pinching one of the knotted ribbons around her wrist for protection.

"Oh? I wasn't talking about Muggles, Theo." Daphne smiled as though she were about to take a bite of something delicious, " I mean unless you weren't told?"

"Told what?"

"I mean, I suppose there's no reason for you to know. Or really have a say. I mean, you are only her brother." The girl seemed to be genuinely wondering.

"Daphne, what are you babbling on about?" Theo snapped.

"I mean, Lady Dorathea's engagement to House Malfoy of course," Daphne said with near-perfectly feigned innocence. 

A/N: This was a fun chapter to write. Thank you as always for your follows, favs and especially reviews!


	17. Chapter 17

XVII.

"My what?" Dorathea sputtered, her fork falling out of her nerveless fingers. She glanced at Theo who was staring at her with a mixture of hurt, astonishment, and confusion written over his face.

"Is this true?" He asked, his voice breaking on the last syllable.

"No - Theo-"

"I mean, you did spend a lot of time at Malfoy manor over the break," Daphne added, looking positively feline in her enjoyment of the scene, "Draco wouldn't shut up about it. How you visited him in Hogwarts constantly and spoke to his mother every other day and had such a close connection."

Out of the corner of her eye, Dorothea saw her brother slump back on the bench, eyes darting over his lap as he tried to piece together everything that was happening. He looked as shocked as she felt.

"It's not like that," She protested weakly, "He's just a frie-" But Daphne wasn't done. Leaning forward, eyes gleaming, she added sweetly.

"And now you show up with that necklace," Daphne reached forward to flick the silver pendant that hung around Dorathea's neck, the belated birthday gift from Draco. "And that hair." Dorathea's hands flew up to the intricate updo that Lady Malfoy had taught her- had told her was the appropriate style for any young Pureblood heiress at Hogwarts.

"You're all but flaunting your engagement, Dora-darling." The girl sat back, her false good humor burning away to reveal a deep well of fury in her eyes. "An engagement that was promised to the Parkinsons, I might add. And if the Nott's are going to be party to this breach of contract then you can be sure the Greengrass's won't stand idly by."

Dorathea fought the urge to tear the pins and spells out of her hair, to burst into tears and cry that all these allegations were false. Instead, she forced herself to straighten, lowering her hands into her lap. Anger- a cold burning thing so different than the hot rage Harry felt- settled into her stomach, clearing her head and honing her thoughts to a razors edge.

"Miss Greengrass, you do yourself a disservice and come very close to insulting our family," Dorathea said coldly, pleased to see the Slytherin's girl's smile waver. She dismissed the other girl with a glare and turned to Theo, "Brother, is there any way to enter into an engagement contract without knowledge or consent."

Theo blinked, as though jerked out of a trance, frowned briefly and then shook his head. "No. There isn't. You mean to say that-"

"I never agreed to any engagement contract neither the Malfoy family or any other." She said clearly and distinctly, pitching her voice so that Pansy could hear her down at the other end of the table. She turned back to Daphne and held up her pendant. "This necklace was given to me as a Christmas gift by Draco, but he made no mention of an engagement. And, when Lady Malfoy taught me these hairstyles, she said they were appropriate for my family."

Daphne's eyes narrowed, "But surely you knew-"

"She grew up with Muggles, Daphne," Theo broke out in exasperation, "She didn't even know about magic until two weeks ago- much less about the details of various pureblood courting rituals!"

"So you're not…." The girl glanced between the two Nott's quickly and then the anger was folded up and put away as quickly as it appeared. She burst into a smile and grabbed Dorathea's hands. "Oh- it was all just a silly misunderstanding! Of course, it would be- Pansy come down here. I'd like to introduce you to Dora-darling. There is absolutely nothing to worry about- she is not engaged to Draco and never will be."

"I didn't say that," Dorathea said, fighting to free her hands. "I am still learning much about this world. Draco and his family have been incredibly helpful so far. If in the future, something develops between Draco and I, then we will cross that bridge when we get there.

"Until then," She fixed Pansy with a hard look that the dark-haired Slytherin matched. "You might want to consider why the Malfoys would be so willing to break a contract without telling you."

Deep chimes sang out in the Great Hall and the few remaining students quickly shoveled in the last of their breakfasts before rising to hurry out the door. Dorathea sighed as the food on her plates winked out of existence. It was time for class and she had barely had a chance to eat more than two bites.

She and Theo rose, but before she followed her brother towards the great doors, she turned back to the two girls.

"Since I'm not engaged, what is the quickest way for me to change my hairstyle before class." She ignored Pansy's muttered suggestion to cut it off and focused on Daphne. She didn't trust this girl, didn't even particularly like her, but if anyone would know about the hairstyle it would be her. Daphne considered the intricate braids for a moment, then sighed.

"If you unpin those braids from the top of your head and drape them under the one in the back- you'll have a perfectly neutral hairstyle." She raised her wand, eyebrows curved hopefully, "I could help you-"

"No thank you. You've done quite enough already." Dorathea turned on her heel and hurried after Theo who took her hand gratefully. She let out the breath she was holding, "I'm exhausted."

"You did brilliantly," Theo promised. There were two round points of red on his cheeks and his eyes were bright with anger. "Absolutely brilliantly. You put Daphne in her place and took care of any gossip."

"I can't believe Draco would do something like this," She whispered, tears coming unbidden to her eyes. She had begun to count Draco as among her friends and then to find out that he had tricked her? She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand- not wanting to enter into her first class with tears in her eyes. There was enough gossip already.

"I can." Theo said darkly, " But he's won't make that mistake twice."

Before she could ask what that cryptic comment meant, Theo squeezed her hand and peeled off to head to his next class. Dorathea watched him disappear behind a corner, her heart feeling heavy in her chest. But she forced herself to square her shoulders and make her way to charms.

Mandy and Padma might not have waited for her in the Great Hall, but they had saved her a seat in Charms. It was a small gesture, but Dorathea appreciated it and gave them both a weak smile as she slid into her seat.

"What was all that about at breakfast?" Mandy leaned across Padma, her face bright with curiosity. Dorathea shook her head wearily.

"Family things," She said, then rummaged through her bag, "Um, do either of you have a mirror I could borrow?" Mandy didn't but Padma did. Dorathea carefully let down the two braids Daphne had mentioned, securing them at the base of her neck with two hairpins, before any Hufflepuff could come over and ask why she was suddenly engaged. She gave herself a critical look in the mirror, nodded, and handed the mirror back to Padma.

It was only 8 in the morning and she was ready for the day to be over.

A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I appreciate all your feedback and ideas!


	18. Chapter 18

XVIII.

If Dorathea had spent her entire morning wondering about Theo's cryptic comment, she didn't have to wait long to have her questions answered. In fact, the whole school was buzzing with the answer by lunch.

"I heard that he shoved Malfoy against the Herbology table, grabbed his lapels, lifted him onto his toes and then swore if Malfoy ever insulted him again it would be the last thing he ever did," an older Ravenclaw told her friend breathlessly as they took their seats a little further up the table from Dorathea. Her friend shook his head and leaned forward conspiratorially. Dorathea leaned in slightly herself- amazed at how quickly the School's gossip mill had moved away from her and onto another subject.

"I heard that he threw Malfoy through a Greenhouse window," He said with a delight snicker, "Burst out after him, stomped his head on the ground, and vowed that he would pluck Malfoy's eyes from his head if he ever even looked at his sister-"

The rest of the words faded into meaningless noise as Dorathea sunk into shock. His sister. Malfoy. That could only mean-

She glanced wildly across the great hall to the Slytherin Table- scanning the green and silver robes for some sign of her brother. But instead of seeing his familiar frame, she caught sight of Pansy saying something to a girl next to her and pointing right at Dorathea.

The whole school was looking at her. Not everyone was as obvious as Pansy- with her point and sneer. But she could feel the weight of their eyes on her- could imagine what they were saying. Dorathea stared down at her plate, feeling light-headed. Would it be better to run from the room and attract more notice? Or to eat her lunch and pretend nothing was happening and hope that the stares died away.

But what about Theo? If what those girls were right and he had attacked Draco, what if he was hurt? The pounding in her ears increased along with her indecision.

"Do you want a distraction?"

Dorathea looked up to see Lisa taking a seat across the table from her. Of all the people Dorathea wanted to see, Lisa was not among them. "I beg your pardon?"

"A distraction," Lisa said. Her smirk must be patented, Dorothea decided, otherwise it would leave her face more often, "Give them something else to talk about while you escape?"

Escape- Dorathea latched onto the world like a lifeline. She might not trust Lisa, but she needed to escape the scrutiny of the school and find Theo. So, she gave a small nod. Lisa grinned.

"YOU!" Lisa stood up so fast that the bench she was sitting on flew back- almost hitting the Hufflepuff table. The conversation around them ceased as every eye was drawn to the shout. Lisa was standing- one leg braced on the table- arm outstretched and pointed at the confused and terrified Mandy who had just walked into the hall.

"Wha-" Mandy looked around trying to figure out what she had done.

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!" Lisa shouted, "DON'T PLEAD INNOCENT!"

Now even more of the Great Hall was focused on the Ravenclaw. Along with the astonished looks, Dorothea was amazed to seem some enjoyment- especially from the Slytherin table. She ducked her head and collected her bag. If someone noticed that she slipped out of the Great Hall, she hadn't seen.

. . . . .

In the first atrium, the air seemed about ten degrees cooler. She could still hear the shouts from the Great Hall behind her which attracted any straggling students towards the dining hall. Soon, Dorothea was by herself.

But where was Theo? She took a half step towards the dungeons and then paused. Would Theo be in the Slytherin Common room? Something in her heart said no. Theo found no sanctuary in Hogwarts- not even in his own common room.

Inspiration struck. Dorathea dug through her bag- she carried so many more things now that she was a girl- and produced a spool of simple, white thread. The Nott manor had a book of old myths which she had been reading in the evenings. What worked for Ariadne could work for her.

Dorathea clasped the spool of thread to her chest and reached into her heart- where the Nott Family magic lay. Theo had shown her how to access this deep well of magic a few days after her arrival.

Every wizard and witch had access to two forms of magic- their own which they were born with and their families which they were either born or married into. Harry had only ever relied on his own personal magic. This was the magic that Hogwarts taught their students to access and shape to their will. It was lively and changeable- suitable for the many schools of magic Hogwarts offered. But its was limited in their application.

Family magic, on the other hand, was shared. It was deep and connected to every member of the family. Family members could share their magic and lend each other aid during times of crisis. While its applications were fewer than personal magic- Dorathea couldn't ask her family magic to help transfigure a spoon into a sock- but within its own confines, it allowed almost endless creativity.

Dorathea couldn't be sure and Theo would never say, but she had an inkling that her twin was a genius- the once in a century- when it came to their family magic- no matter what his grades were at Hogwarts. She hoped that genius had transferred.

Please, she thought, cupping the spool of thread in her palms and pressing her hands against her heart. She thought hard of Theo- picturing his face and the way that he felt, how empty she felt when she didn't know where he was. Please help me find him.

The spool warmed in her palms and she opened her hands to show that it was glowing faintly in the dimness of the castle. Suddenly, it hopped out of her hand and began rolling down the hallway. Dorathea suppressed a squeak of delight and picked up the trailing end of white thread.

Winding it around her hand, she set off after the enchanted spool.

The thread led her on a merry dance throughout the castle. It jumped nimbly up and downstairs and around corners, but Dorathea had to open closed doors so it could continue its journey. She continued to wind the thread around her other hand creating first a white band and then a thicker coil as the thread transferred from the spool. The spool grew thinner and thinner and she began to wonder at how large Hogwarts really was, how well Theo had hidden.

As she descended another set of stairs (yet another part of the castle Harry had never seen), the spool finally gave out. The magic faded from the thread and the small wooden bobbin clattered to a stop on the landing.

Dorathea sighed. Now, what was she-

"Thea?" Theo peeked his head from around the corner. "What are you doing here?"

"Theo!" Her heart lightened and she ran down the last set of steps towards him, "I was looking for you!"

"How-" His voice trailed off as he looked at first the white thread wrapped around her hand and then the empty bobbin on the stairs. He cocked his head in thought for a moment and then an appreciative smile lit his face. "Oh- well done, Thea! That's really clever. Ariadne's guide right? But how did you? I mean, we never discussed it-"

"I just felt the spool of thread and remembered the story- then it just made sense." That was another difference between family and personal magic. Personal magic had to be taught and trained - it had no inherent shape but the shape that your will gave it and that was a difficult skill to learn. Family magic, on the other hand, flowed almost spontaneously. It was next to impossible to teach. Theo had been able to show her how to braid or which knots to make, but to imbue them with magic? That came naturally or not at all.

"You're brilliant!" Theo said and Dorathea felt an answering grin spread across her face. Then she remembered why she had sought Theo out and the grin faded.

"Theo- everyone in the Great Hall was saying that you attacked Draco - is that true?"

Theo's face clouded over and he looked away- shoving his hands into his pockets. "I didn't attack him." He said, in a curiously distinct way. There was a slight emphasis on the verb that caused Dorathea to narrow her eyes.

"What did you do?"

"I challenged him to a duel," Theo said simply. Seeing her shock, he was quick to explain. "He insulted you, Thea. The whole Malfoy family did. Trying to trick you into an engagement without your knowledge. That's an insult to our whole family and I can't let that stand. He has to pay for it."

"With a duel?" Dorathea asked incredulously.

Theo frowned, "How would you have them pay?"

Dorathea didn't have an answer for him. She had thought that with fixing her hair and maybe a stern talking-to with Draco later on, the affair was behind them. But to challenge Draco to a duel? What if Theo got hurt? What if Draco did?

"Did Draco accept?" She asked

"Of course he did. He'd be a coward to refuse in front of so many people."

An old memory rose in Dorathea's brain - of Draco challenging Harry to a duel in their first year then never showing. Harry had almost been caught by Filtch and gotten in trouble in the first week of school.

"Theo do you-" Dorathea hesitated, struggling with how to phrase this without arousing Theo's suspicions. "Theo, Draco was bragging over the holidays about how he challenged Harry Potter to a duel."

That caused Theo to scoff and roll his eyes, "Oh yeah. I remember that. He went on and on about how great a prank it would be when Filtch caught Potter. Wouldn't shut up about it all night."

Dorathea breathed a silent sigh of relief, "Yes, well, how do you know he won't stand you up?"

"Because I'm a Nott," Theo said.

"Yes, but Potter was a- Potter."

"He was a half-blood." Theo corrected her. "If he had been a full-blooded Potter, then Draco would have had to abide by the old laws and met him for a duel. But a half-blood." Theo shrugged a shoulder as if that explained everything. It didn't. But Dorathea didn't know how to push the issue.

"Alright- if you are sure-" She said, "When is the duel?"

"Tonight!" Theo brightened, "You'll come right? You don't have Astronomy, do you? You need to be there as the subject of the duel."

"I do?" Dorathea asked then sighed, "Yeah, of course, I'll be there Theo. We're family."

A/N: Thank you all for your follows, favs and especially reviews. They are the spark that keeps me writing! What would your family magic be if your family had magic?


End file.
